


Imperfection

by foreverloved



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Graphic violence in later chapters, M/M, Minor Character Death, Morbid, Possessive Itachi, Psychological Torture, Rape, Sasuke has something akin to agoraphobia, Torture, Uchiha Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 75,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6173275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverloved/pseuds/foreverloved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Itachi hadn't cared about the price when he built their world and didn't care what he had to pay now to keep it that way. Sasuke was the only thing that mattered, everything else was expendable. But curiosity is deadly and can spread to even the most well guarded. Because after all, aren't we all imperfect? </p><p>AU Modern time. ItaxSasu NaruxSasu.<br/>--</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Crow Begins a Story

**Author's Note:**

> This story is written in a pattern and changes perspective as needed for the story progression. Thought it might help if you guys knew that before hand. The chapter title always gives an easy animal-based hint as to who is narrating the chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters

We own a house on the east end of Konoha. It doesn't look like much. A rundown mechanics shop, perhaps a warehouse. I have done nothing to change the stainless steel exterior or attempt to remove the graffiti dotting its surface. Why should I bother? With such a grotesque shell it only serves to deter any possible inspection.

The neighborhood being what it is I would have preferred forgoing the windows peeking out from the second floor but he insisted they be there. For the studio he said. You can't make paintings without natural light. He had wanted to display the paintings he created outside but I insisted that if they left the home, they would get stolen. Just like Sasuke.

Inside the home is just that; a house. A kitchen towards the back and a table for us to eat at. The remaining space is left for Sasuke's studio. Above the ground floor is the majority of our living space. I won't ever let Sasuke see what I have in the second room, so instead he spends his free time in the room we share together or his studio below.

There he can do whatever he pleases, be it painting or reading one of the books I buy for him. Most often I have found him painting. He seems to enjoy it. I know Sasuke wants a house with more windows but I won't allow it. This home was built so he and I could live in peace. Unjudged. Safe. Free. I am here with him and that is all he will ever need.

The doors' locks click into place behind me. Turning with a sigh of satisfaction I make my way up the stairs. Being a lawyer is not a hard job but it is still time spent away from my Sasuke. I would have preferred no job at all however our circumstances do not allow that luxury. Thankfully, in a big city such as Konoha it is easy for me to avoid the public eye, despite my choice of profession. I take small cases and finish them with just enough expertise to acquire more clients but not with the perfection that would attract interest.

I effortlessly climb the wooden stairs leading to the open walkway. Greater still is my joy when I open the bedroom door and see Sasuke lounging on our black blanketed mattress, a book held lazily in his hands.

A hundred lifetimes of staring at him will never take away the pleasure of watching Sasuke. He is completely different from myself. As I am the frozen ice of a lake he is the roaring flame of a fire. Each emotion my little brother feels is expressed in every gesture and action of his body. From the tips of his spiky hair to the toes of his lithe teenage frame, Sasuke is alive. Alive and safe – here in our house.

Keeping my footsteps silent I walk over to the bed and, desperate to see proof my little brother is nothing like myself, I pluck the book he is reading right out of his hands. Teasingly I taunt him. "You did not come to greet me. I'm hurt. You let a book replace me little brother?" There, the emotion. I see it in the down turn of his lips. In the furrowing of his brows. In the way he props himself up on his elbows and clenches his fists. I see him in all his expressive glory and I drink it up.

Lifting the book higher I waive it around a bit, silently egging him to do something. My Sasuke never fails me. Sliding into a crouch he reaches up and grabs for the book, his explanation spilling out between those beautiful lips. "I—" He's glaring as he tries for it. "—was—" More grabbing, more emotion to satisfy me. "—busy—with—" Sasuke gives up and throws his arms in the air. "Look, I forgot okay? I'm sorry big brother. Please give the book back." He looks up at me and I see the expression that assures me in a way nothing else can, that he is everything I am not. He looks at me with pure, unsullied love. His lips whisper its message, his eyes fill with the strength of his conviction and he gives it all to me, only me.

Sasuke is beautiful in a way I will never be, and for that only, do I thank God. "No I won't," I tell him lightly as I carefully toss the book to the dresser beside us. Love. I close my eyes and let the images of my brother fill my head. Images of him smiling, laughing, pouting; loving me.

But it's not enough, I need more.

Giving him no warning I fall against him, sending us both toppling down on the bed. He laughs and reaches for the book – a distraction. I reach over and grab hold of his hand. "Play with me Sasuke," I tell him as I bring his hand to my face. Slowly I brush my cheek against his hand. I feel him shiver and I can barely suppress my growing desire. I make my way to his lips, kissing first his hand then his arm on wards until I reach my destination. He is already breathing deeply by the time I finally reach the pink flesh of his mouth. Soon, I know he will lose his patience and scold me. Or demand for me to hurry up. Two different methods but the same intent—the same emotion driving them out of his mouth. I could never act in such a way.

"Itachi," he whines, "You know I can't do all this foreplay."

He is right, I do know but that never stops me. "Oh, I do?" I say teasingly. Sasuke groans and whines some more before pulling away from me. It was a different response than I normally got. I adore it as I adore everything about the boy. He is never the same for very long. I know, like I know everything about my little brother that any further teasing would leave him mad at me. So instead I climb onto the bed and inch toward him.

When Sasuke's hand is once again within reach I gently bring his palm to press up against my growing erection. His eyes go wide and I can't help but stop a little and savor his expression. "I am just as bothered as you are little brother. You are not alone. You never are." Letting go of his hand, I continue to climb up the bed until I hover purposely over my brother. I stay there for a while, completely still and taken aback yet again by the sensations Sasuke causes in me.

I wish my face would tell him what I want it to. Tell him how much I missed him today and how much he means to me. But wishes are a fool's pleas and I know I will never get what I desire. So I show him. I show him that I adore him in the only way I know how when I lower my face and kiss him. Our kiss is thorough and by the time we break away his hard breathing has become pants.

I shift my face upward and whisper in his ear. "I thought of you again today." I will not tell him the place or time, I never do. The words are true and that is sufficient. I pull up far enough away from him to see that dazzling smile no one but I will ever see.

"I missed you too big brother," Sasuke says.

I do not try to convey how I feel through my features, that would but futile; my training is too engraved in me. No emotion is likely to leave my face again. So instead, I speak and I move. No more words are needed. Lowering my head I let my lips fall first to his forehead, then his cheek, and finally those wonderful lips. The last we enjoy immensely and soon Sasuke pulls me to him.

I indulge the boy and let my body push up against his. Morals mean nothing to me. I disregarded them years ago. Sasuke himself knows no gibberish such as that. He knows just me and our love: the only two subjects my little brother ever needs to know. Just as I have planned.

My breath a soft caress I whisper again in his ears. "Sasuke show me that you love me." He does and I know I am. For with Sasuke alone, I can be alive.

-x-

Pein sends me a message at three that morning. Another job, he says, needs to be done immediately. Sasuke is curled up next to me, his head atop my chest. It is hard to not wake him when I move from the bed but I manage. At one point, during the first years of working for Pein, I had loathed putting on the standard uniform of his profession. It symbolized so much to me then. The black pants and shirt, the red and black cloak, even the ring, it all seemed so fake and supernatural—ghastly almost. As if by donning them I was taking up the mantel of death. It was years later of course that I learned that I hadn't been far from the truth. Death was to become both my constant companion and ally.

Kisame, Deidara and Sasori are waiting for me in the redbrick building Pein uses as an office when I arrive. Kisame is leaning against the wall, his large gun prompted up next to him. The other two are on the floor, a mess of items I don't recognize in a litter between them. It looks to be gadgets and chemicals of some sort but I don't dwell on it for too long. With them it is best to leave things alone.

"The job?" I ask as I seat myself in one of the few stable chairs.

Sasori doesn't bother to look up from his work as he answers me. "An old man. Fuwakura. 23rd Street, blue building."

"When?" I ask.

"Four."

Satisfied by the answer, I nod and glance around the room. Being a terrorist, Pein has no real interest in reality or superficial ideas like decorating. The room's walls are the same color as the gray cement they were built from as is the floor. The chair I am seated in had been taken from one of the local dumps. A few couches, all in disgusting condition, are thrown around the room. It is a barren place and so appropriate it makes me sick.

"Time to go," Sasori announces suddenly as he rises. At his feet Deidara swears and laughs. I don't catch his words and I'm glad for it. Sasori kicks him hard in the side and orders him to get up. Kisame, asleep I suppose, wakes at the sound of Deidara shrill laughter. He does not see what is so funny but joins in the laughter anyway.

They are freaks, all three of them. Living for nothing but the short meaningless stretches of time where they can be everything they are-no criticisms or restrictions placed upon them. They have no respect for rules or any fear of consequences. They act however they want to, be it homicidal or scientific. No human decency in the slightest. I suppose of course, that I must be a freak as well. I am here too am I not?

"Come on, I want to get this done and over with."

My words are met with more laughter and a lewd look from Deidara. "That eager to go home and fuck your brother yeah?" It isn't the first time Deidara has made jest of Sasuke. In fact, thinking back on it I believe the topic has gotten brought up every time we have exchanged words.

"Yes actually, I am. Sasuke is waiting for me in bed," I answer truthfully.

Deidara continues to look at me, his childlike face distorted by the crooked smile of his lips. "You're sick dude, yeah."

"Thank you," I tell him as I move away from the seat and to the door. People don't know how to react to the truth, it confuses them. Lies are so much easier to manipulate and believe. Truth is much more stubborn. It is unchangeable. What is, is. Nothing can be done with it. Perhaps that's why I hate it so much.

"Kisame," I call out. At his name the enormous black man walks over to my side, the large gun slung effortlessly over one shoulder. I look ordinary standing next to him. With my tan skin and black hair I hardly leave an impression. I wonder vaguely if others see me as I do. I have no special features or unique characteristics. I'm ordinary in both my appearance and skills. I am nothing like Sasuke.

Sasori calls for Deidara and soon all four of us are walking down the street. We do not ride. Sasori has his reasons as do us all but mainly it is just inconvenient. We are criminals and thus trust nothing we can't control. People, mechanics, life… Trust opens room for hope and hope is a luxury none of us are allowed. We are nameless to society. If we die, no one is going to ask after us. No one is going to wonder what happened or go looking.

But more than anything else, I believe Pein has picked the seven of us because he believes we have nothing to lose. We care for nothing therefore we are perfect. If we are perfect, we have no flaw - no weakness.

_But that is a lie, everyone has a weakness._

I have mine: my brother. Deidara and Sasori and even Kisame have one as well. I do not know what it is but I do not doubt that one exists. No one can give up everything. There will always be something that gives them the necessary desire to breathe and live.

As the others and I finish killing the man and his guest of prostitutes, I can't help but wonder what those weaknesses are.


	2. A Dog and His Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something to note, I do not specify dates or give an exact timeline in the story unless it is important. Sometimes chapters will be set weeks or months apart.

* * *

 

**CHAPTER TWO: A DOG AND HIS CURIOSITY**

* * *

 

Itachi mentioned him by accident. We were at the local restaurant we often visited after a successful case. I had my cigarette lit and in my mouth and a half-empty bottle of beer waiting patiently in my hand. Itachi, for probably the first and only time in his life, had drank alcohol. At the time I was sure something really bad must have happened to my boss that day to force him to succumb to the temptation of drink. I still believe that.

"The family line's dead," Itachi said shortly, his face surprisingly stern and apathetic despite the drunken condition I assumed he was in.

"Yeah?" I answered encouragingly, surprised and curious as to why my boss decided to speak.

"I'm asexual, he's gay and everyone else is dead. The line's not going anywhere."

That was the probably the closest thing to a joke Itachi had ever made. "Does that bother you?" I asked.

Itachi looked up at me and for a moment I almost thought he smiled. Almost. Then the moment passed and Itachi answered. "It doesn't bother me in the least."

That was all Itachi ever said about his brother. After that line my boss effortlessly steered the conversation back to our law firm. It made me think that maybe he wasn't as drunk as I thought. It's all kind of hazy so I can't be sure on much at all. To be honest, everything past the conversation is blank. I couldn't concentrate all that well and my mind wouldn't stray from the implications Itachi had made.

Everything I know about the man was what I had found from observing him at work. It would have been easier to simply ask him questions but Itachi does not talk about anything but business with me, or anyone else for that matter. Aside from our short drunken conversation, something that, with each passing day become more profound and special, Itachi kept to himself.

So why had he, when he finally chose to speak, mention his family? And specifically the permanent lack of heirs? I couldn't help it, I was curious. My interest had been peaked and it wouldn't go away. I made it a promise to myself then and there to find out everything I could about Itachi's brother.

That was my first mistake.

It was two months later that I was finally given the chance to learn more about my boss's private life. On Itachi's orders I was to gather the necessary papers in his normally locked office and meet him at the courtroom by three that afternoon. Having arrived back at the firm around two, I had a few extra minutes to snoop around. Nobody has had an opportunity like that before. No one can enter his office aside from himself; it's always locked.

When I locked the door behind me and finally had the chance to look around properly, I couldn't figure out why Itachi was so paranoid. The office was disappointingly similar to any other in the building. Bookcases packed with their intended material lined the back and left wall. A red leather sofa that, by the looks of it, received less use than the actual books, took up the remainder of the right wall. The upper half of the room consisted of a large oak desk, a few file cabinets and a maroon office chair. That was it. No secret photo album or humiliating file of papers. There wasn't anything scandalous at all.

More than a little ticked off; I set about doing my appointed task. After getting the papers from one of the cabinets I turned around to walk out of the room when, by some fluke or perhaps design, my attention went to a nondescript row of pictures. They were high on a shelf to the left of the desk. A large scenic picture of Konoha stood to their immediate right; efficiently drawing all casual attention away from the shelf.

In simple wooden frames dozens of pictures littered the wooden surface, all of them depicting the same person, sometimes at varying ages. That was my first sight of him. At first, I thought I was dreaming. Then, I was left dumb-struck and finally, captivated. The individual, male I decided upon closer inspection, was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. Aside from his short, spiky hair and smaller frame he looked remarkably like the boss. I could only assume this was Itachi's brother.

The boss is a beautiful man but he is aloof and intimating. Any sense of awe you feel for his beauty is brutally shoved aside to make room for the harsh feelings of inferiority and obedience he generates in you. Soon you realize this is not done on purpose. That knowledge of his cold, unintentional charisma does nothing but double the blow. With Itachi you are left wondering how God could have cursed one single person to be so perfect.

His brother is different.

For one thing the kid in the picture is smiling. He's laughing, talking, sleeping, living, things you can't possibly imagine Itachi doing. Skin pale and hair so dark it looked blue; he was every high school girl's dream come true. I suppose Itachi might have qualified as well but as I said, Itachi is dead. This kid is alive.

I wanted to stay and stare at him, or better yet, steal a picture for myself. I couldn't however because I knew Itachi would notice. He noticed everything. So I contented myself with snapping a picture of a few my favorites with my phone. It was nothing compared to the originals but it would work. I had no time to borrow a camera, Itachi was waiting.

While I watched Itachi win yet another case a few hours later, I pondered over the pictures I had found. As good as they were they had been clearly taken with a digital camera and not one of the professional ones. Meaning Itachi had taken them himself.

Why?

Someone as beautiful as the boy depicted could easily become one of the most popular models in Japan. He could be famous. So why? If you loved someone, and Itachi clearly loved his brother, why did he not help him become the best he could? During those first few hours at the court I couldn't think of much of anything past the boy, let alone rationalize obvious possibilities. In fact, I didn't even factor in Itachi's personality. Later I would. And the pieces, awkward and jutted as they were, would begin to fall together.

I met him two weeks after the picture incident. During the few minuets we had for a lunch Itachi spontaneously asked me if I was interested in visiting his house. I hadn't been fired yet so Itachi couldn't have known I'd seen the pictures of his brother. I hadn't asked any question or even hinted at wanting to visit. The invitation bothered me but, not one to turn down such an opportunity, I said yes.

That was my second mistake.

The brothers have an unusual place over in downtown Konoha. I had seen it a few times on my walks through the district and so it was a surprise to learn it was Itachi's home. The bottom half of the building looked to be an abandoned garage. The upper half had a few windows looking out but that was the only inclination it was even a house. The glass was so dark you couldn't even tell if a light was on.

Itachi insisted on entering first. I heard the tale-tale noises of locks clicking into place and soon Itachi let me in. Once inside I found it hard to believe it was the same grungy place I had seen from outside. Directly behind where the garage doors should have been was a tall wood paneled wall. The wood paneling continued to cover all four visible walls of the home. The floor had been tiled and the whole front half of the place was full of paint supplies. Half-painted canvas and finished products scattered themselves all around. I stood there, stunned. It looked like an expensive condo.

The paintings I noticed upon a closer look, were exquisite. I had no doubt it was Itachi's brother who had painted them. A picture as alive with emotion as the ones I was looking at could not have been drawn by my boss.

"These are amazing," I commented.

"Of course. Sasuke drew them. They could be nothing less."

Hearing the pride in Itachi's voice and, hoping to catch it on his face, I turned my head around to see where had wandered off to. He stood next to one of the easels, his eyes on the canvas placed upon it.

I walked over to where he stood to get a look at the picture his brother had been working on. I found my mouth sliding open. It was large canvas painted in shades of blue with a touch of red for contrast. The male depicted was without a doubt, Itachi. There was no mistaking it. Yet, the man painted on the canvas was not the man I had spent four years working for.

The Itachi drawn had a book in one hand while the other was used to prop his head up. On the canvas Itachi's eyes were aglow with curiosity. His brows were furrowed ever so slightly with the force of his concentration.

More interesting yet was the effect the canvas had on my boss. His eyes were fixed on the picture, as if he were seeing something for the first time. Perhaps he was. I knew this Itachi, the one drawn, must be the Itachi his brother saw. What possibly could transpire between them to bring out such a version of the man I knew? What changed when he walked out that front door? I found myself inexplicably curious.

Moments passed and Itachi broke away from the picture. He turned and directed me to the left side of the studio. Set in the small alcove invisible to the windows was a small table set for three. Regardless of that fact Itachi had invited me that morning I had been expected.

I walked over to the table and, a bit unsure of where to sit, turned to Itachi. My boss ignored me and sat down on the left side. Following his example I sat opposite him on the right, leaving the last chair between us both.

We were there for only a short while before Itachi stood up once more. He turned to me and informed me he needed to change and would be back in a few minutes. He exited through a brown door I hadn't noticed earlier in my inspection of the room. Moments after Itachi departure the door opened once more. It was from that that he emerged.

He was dressed remarkably similar to the photos in Itachi's office. His cargo pants were black and a little baggy, his shirt red and just right on his frame. He wore no earrings or bracelets but around his neck was a chain with a few dog-tags on it. I couldn't read what they said but I wouldn't have been surprised if one of them had his brother's name on it.

Immediately after his entering, the boy walked over to the table and deposited the steaming food in his arms. He gave me a curious a look that did not last very long as his attention immediately shifted to searching the room. Finding his brother was not there a look of panic started in. He glanced at me then at the front door then around to the door he had come in from.

I watched in fascination as he squirmed. There was no other way to describe it. He shifted from foot to foot, searching with his eyes for Itachi. After several minuets the boy wiped his hands on his pants, licked those beautiful lips then finally sat down. He turned to look at me once more. A remarkable thing happened right then. All the emotion so rampant on his face and body just vanished. His face fell blank, his body limp. He just…sat there. I couldn't bring myself to speak. I wanted to see what he would do next.

I had seen the pictures of the boy smiling and pouting and laughing; activities I had never seen Itachi perform. The boy in pictures was beautiful in the way only someone so wonderfully pure and alive could be. The one seated at the table with me was acting just like Itachi. I had expected him to be different, more alive.

He wasn't.

He was behaving alarmingly like his brother. It was as if the person I had seen in the pictures was an entirely different individual. The boy just sat there, blank and dead looking. It didn't make sense. We sat there like that for several long slow minutes. Him, silent and still; I staring in confusion.

I heard a small creak and a few soft clicks of footsteps. Itachi must have entered the room. That was the only explanation for the transformation unfolding in front of me. The boys head perked up, his body lifting slowly out of the chair and his face... It seemed to glow with the force of the small, shy smile that broke out across his perfect features. It was a small smile, not even meant for me, yet I can't ever forget it.

In that moment, when his lips turned up in the corners and his eyes widened just a little, I knew instantly the boy in the pictures and the one seated with me were undoubtedly the same. I did not understand his earlier behavior before but it would soon make sense.

He ran the short distant from the table and threw his arms around Itachi's neck. My seat was directly in line with the door ahead of me so I could watch with a perfect view the change the child had on my boss. I could scarcely believe my eyes when I beheld the transformation that night at their house.

When Itachi opened that door and the boy ran to him, when they saw each other, they changed. Itachi's pale, ashen skin seemed to take on a glow as he stared at his brother. It was as if the boy radiated a special kind of energy Itachi needed to continue to live. After seeing the effect of the child without Itachi near him, I can say with perfect certainty that the boy goes through a similar transformation. They are alive only when they are together.

What extraordinary people.

This boy, this fragile, beautiful (so very, very beautiful) teenage child, could make Itachi; the perfect, flawless man I had admired for years, behave as if he could see nothing else. It was incredible, almost unreal. It left me feeling as if I had witnessed a miracle performed by one of God's own angels. I couldn't help it.

I fell in love.

Not with Sasuke or Itachi but rather the sort of love that one has for a treasured story. Itachi has yet to notice how I feel about the two of them. I don't know how I've managed to keep it a secret, but I have. Sasuke is never mentioned and I haven't seen him again since that dinner. That did not stop me from attempting to learn what I could of them both. It seemed to be the only way to draw closer to the two of them.

It has taken some time but I managed to piece together what I believed must have happened. My bosses history and subsequently those of the boy have been deleted from any records I could find. How they ended up there, in that little house in a corner of Shinjuku is unclear.

What transpires now, however, is not. Itachi goes to work then goes home. The boy however? He does not leave the home. Ever. I saw the locks on the inside of the door as well as the ones placed outside. What glass there was I had little doubt was top-grade bulletproof and I would venture a guess there is cement between the wood paneling and the stainless steel exterior. Itachi is careful, he always has been. I do not begrudge him for it, if anything I am thankful. I am glad the boy is protected so well. If I had him as Itachi has him, I would act the same.

Perhaps it is because I can so easily relate that I figured it out so quickly. The private possessiveness of Itachi's, the undiluted adoration of the younger brother, the small smiles and comments I saw that night... It was so obvious I can't believe I didn't figure out immediately. They are in love, two brothers, clearly blood brothers, completely and obsessively in love with each other. Upon learning this I should have felt sickened by them.

Not in awe.

But I was. I was left in awe and envy of them, far from the disgust society teaches you to feel. There is something so special, almost surreal about those two. In the company of others, or by themselves, they act as if they are dead. They do not smile, they do not engage in conversation, or possess any interest in their surroundings. It seems to me that if they could do it they would even stop breathing.

But when the other is near, everything changes.

I could ruin their world, it would be easy. A simple phone call to the social services and he would never see Itachi again. I could have him, I know he would let me. After Itachi was gone the boy would be broken beyond healing. He would truly be dead. I could do anything I wanted with him and he wouldn't care. I could gain custody of him. Have him live with me and sleep in my bed. He could be mine.

Yet, I can't do it.

Perhaps it's the knowledge that the him I could have would never be the him Itachi has. He would never smile at me like that. He would never laugh or relax like he does for Itachi. That might be why I don't turn them in. But I doubt it. Deep down, I know it's not the real reason.

There is just something truly extraordinary about them. I know that everyday Itachi wakes up only because he can see his brother's face. And Sasuke, he is the same. The world does not exist to two of them. There are only each other and that is it. How many people could do that? Give up everything, everything, for that person. Do you know any? I don't.

So I keep the secret to myself. I don't say anything and I content myself with watching. On occasions, when it is raining and my mind is weary, I allow myself to dream and wonder what they are doing. Sometimes, but only sometimes, I even fancy myself their protector. It's preposterous, I know that. Itachi doesn't need protecting at all. He is probably more capable of defending himself than I am. He is perfect, ask anyone and they'll tell you that. Itachi has no flaw. Yet, all this time I have known him I haven't been able to bring myself to believe that.

Because everyone has a weakness.

When you learn of that weakness, that one thing that can turn a perfect man into a flawed human, you feel special. You desire to learn more of that amazing weakness and to treasure the value of that special something. It's not often but sometimes, sometimes, their weakness even becomes yours.

I foolishly assumed that my life would not change after learning Itachi's secret. I thought I would be safe and happy, thoroughly content to watch them from afar. Everything would be perfectly fine. I became sedated with this assumption and slowly I became lax.

That was my third and last mistake.

 


	3. The Crow Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am not too happy with how this chapter turned out but oh well. It does the job.

* * *

 

**CHAPTER THREE: THE CROW WORRIES**

* * *

 

As it is customary, immediately after I enter the house I turn around and check all the locks on the door. I am aware of the ludicrously of having locks on a door Sasuke has no interest in opening, but still, I have to be sure. I will not take the chance of him leaving. Just the thought of what the air outside alone would do to him is enough to irritate me.

When I am sure the locks are secure and in place I tuck the key back around my neck and glance around, calling out my usual words of greeting. I wait patiently for the regular sound of rushing feet and resounding call of my name. Minuets pass and I hear nothing. It seems Sasuke still hasn't returned to normal. This isn't the first time only silence has greeted me. For a good week now it has been the new norm. Not just my return home, many of his activities as of late have been unusual and different--almost unnerving. I had anticipated such a response from him but clearly I underestimated its impact.

At night he will feign sleep and refuse to touch me. If I manage to persuade him into something he acts annoyed after and is even angrier with me than before. He no longer begs for me to abandon my work and pay attention to him. There are no more good-bye kisses or even welcome-back hugs. If I dared to be so imaginative, I might say he is ignoring me. What a thought, my Sasuke, avoiding me. Me, the one person he has ever known. It is silly.

So why am I worried?

Abandoning my place by the door I walk into the house and deposit my briefcase on the kitchen table. "Sasuke?" I call out.

My inquiry is met yet again with no response. This is getting very old, rather fast. Is he not happy? He has everything he has asked for. Books, paints, clothes, food-all of it is provided. He is rarely in need or want, I make sure of it. I have endured his mood swings before but none have gone past a single night. Usually he is back to his usual shelf by the time I return home from work. He has to be alright. My plan has only begun. If he breaks now I can not trust he will be able to handle what is yet to come.

Shrugging off my coat I set it beside the briefcase and climb the stairs to the second floor. I do not have to look far for him. Huddled in a corner of our room with his head atop his bent knees is my brother. Despite the evening hours he is still in his pajama pants. Did he do nothing today? I would not be surprised. To add to his stranger behavior he has been lethargic and depressive. I need to fix this soon, before it gets any worse. Perhaps my decision earlier that month had not been a wise one, no matter how needed it seemed at the time.

That thought in mind I keep my steps light as I walk the short distance to his hiding spot and join him on the ground. It is not until I wrap my arms around his shoulders that he notices my presence.

"Sasuke, what are you doing?"

The shock of both my voice and my touch surprises him enough to warrant a quick uplifting of his head and a small tremor of his body. "Itachi?" he squeaks out, his voice hoarse. Has he not been drinking anything? Taking a longer look I feel my lips press together in frustration. His skin is paler than usual and there are bags under his eyes. He has not been eating or sleeping.

"When was the last time you ate?" I demand, my words coming out as harsh and angry as I felt. How could he be doing this to himself? To me? I have told him time and time again he needs to be more cautious of his health. He cannot die on me. 

He cringes and looks away from me, clearly ashamed of his actions – as he should be. "L-Last night…"

A day. One day without food and likely without sleep or drink. It is all I can do not to lash out again. Patience, patience. Angry words will scare him even more. Besides there is a slim chance he is even aware of his choices. So much of his actions are done instinctively. There is no need for additional words of hurt. My anger is enough discipline: he hates to disappoint me.

Unwrapping my arms I stand up and begin walking away. My feet reach the second step when I hear Sasuke scrambling after me. "Big brother, don't go! I'm sorry big brother, don't go away." I feel his arms encircle my waist and his head nuzzling my back. For the benefit of us both I stop moving and wait for the inevitable explanation.

"P-please don't leave me alone anymore big brother… I'll be good I promise, just don't leave me…"

There…there it is. He is lonely. Angry, I am sure, but mainly lonely. I doubt his loneliness is the cause for his behavior recently but certainly his lack of appetite. I have dealt with this before. I thought he had gotten past it but perhaps Hatake's appearance triggered some of his past issues. This is good, I know how to handle this situation. As much as I've done it in the past, comforting him is no guessing game.

I place my hands atop his, ensuring he will not let go and turn around to face him. Instinctively he lifts his head to look at me. He's grown so much...nearly eighteen and only a few inches shorter than me. His hair, such a beautiful shade is nearing the top of his shoulders. What devil did I trick to grant me this child? What god did I please do allow me the lifetime to gaze upon him? Who do I have to thank for this chance…this gift of loving him?

I feel Sasuke's arms as they wrap around my body, silencing my thoughts and filling them with something only he can. The scent of it, of everything that makes Sasuke who he is, rises to my nose as he rests his head on my shoulders. He smells so wonderful, so pure and alive. I move my mouth to kiss his ears when I feel his body begin to shake. His voice is still hoarse and quiet, perhaps because of that the deep ache in his voice becomes more pronounced.

"Big brother, why don't you tell me what is going on? Did I do something wrong?"

Did he do anything wrong? Heavens, where did he get that idea? He doesn't even know  _how_ to go against me, let alone act on it. His lack of eating and lethargic behavior is a subconscious action, nothing he has done on purpose. My every word and command is engraved in his soul. He can't disobey me. It is impossible. The thought is nearly enough to make me laugh, if I was still capable of such a thing. His lack of appetite is a result of my actions and not his fault. He needed the reminder of how his decision hurt me but those choices of his were not to blame.

Slowly I let my lips descend on his neck and where I gently kiss the smooth skin, knowing my brother will understand the soft show of affection to be silent reassurance. "Sasuke aside from not eating today, you haven't done anything. What makes you think that?" More kisses, more solemn oaths I take to protect him and his innocence, this purity.

His hold on my neck tightens and for a moment I wonder if he is crying. It is seldom but unlike myself, my little brother does shed tears. More often than not it will be at my expense. They usually are complaints of me leaving him in the night. It is hard to reassure when it gets that bad and I find myself hoping it is not the case this time. Such hope is destroyed as I realize how hard he is shaking.

"But Itachi, you keep pushing me away. Whenever I ask you anything you tell me to not worry. Why brother, why won't you tell me anything?"

There is such emotion in his voice…I find myself looking up to make sure he is not weeping. He was like this ten years ago as well. I don't imagine he remembers the night very well, something I am thankful for. He was so young at the time, only six. Our third night in the house and my first time leaving him alone at night. His eyes looked just as they did then. Big and black, shining like polished stone with the tears spilling out of them. I…cannot say for certain if he has forgiven for my late-night departures. I am too fearful to ask.

I force my breath to stay even as I answer him. I cannot get worked up over this. I must be calm or he will think something is up. Such emotion deserves a solid answer. I will do my best to give him the most truth I can.

"Sasuke, I am not hiding anything from you." The words are safe, as much a lie as they are truth. I am not hiding anything if he does ask. Why should he? He has complete trust in me.  _"What do you want to know?"_

His shaking begins to subside and he straightens to look me in the eye. The tears are not gone from his eyes but the polished appearance has disappeared. The determination left in its wake is by far worse. "Who was that man who came to visit us?"

There it was: the root of his new found worry. Hatake's visit has been troubling him deeply apparently. I had expected it of course, after all Hatake was the first person other than myself Sasuke ever remembers seeing. Still, I suppose I have underestimated the extent of damage the visit caused. I will have to be more careful next time. Calmly I tell him, "His name is Hatake Kakashi. He came for business Sasuke."

As I should have known it would, the answer does not satisfy him. He squirms in my arms in his irritation. He truly was not a patient person. "What business? Is it true that he will be the one to sell my paintings?"

I nod my head at him in affirmation. Hatake is unaware of the new role he would soon play. I do not doubt however his willingness. Hatake had been smitten by my Sasuke, as I knew he would, as everyone would. So he will stay here, always. It is for his safety.

My answer earns me a wide smile from Sasuke. He had been bringing me ideas and questions about such a plan for some time now. I had been reluctant at first to let Sasuke's paintings out in the public until I remembered that his name need not be attached.

His next question however, is unexpected. Truly, he is full of surprises. "What do you do when you leave the house at night big brother?"

Of all the questions to stumble upon he asks one of the few I cannot fully answer. My life under Pein is an unfortunate consequence for obtaining what I have now. I bear no shame or pride in my work for him. It is however, something one such as Sasuke should not have to know. His world is this house. That is enough.

This said, my response to him is vague and non-committal, something safe. "I help other people," I tell him with a kiss.

His plumb pink lips turn down in a pout and he continues on with his interrogation, firm in finding out what exactly it is I do. "But  _how_  do you help them?"

I am not sure why, I suspect it is the pout, but I feel the urge to lightly tap his forehead. It is an old habit I had spontaneously developed in his youth, one I still practiced. Having no good reason to ignore the desire I raise my hand and do just that. The action is enough to merit a deeper pout from my brother.

"Another time Sasuke."

As the customary words fall fluidly from my lips that innocent, playful turn of his smile disappears and his frown returns. "But you said you'd answer my questions."

He is very adamant on getting answers it seems. Anymore sidestepping will do permanent damage. Still, vagueness can be done in more ways than one. "There are certain tasks that need to be done no matter what. When no one else can finish the job I step in to help."

Immediately his face lights up. The complete change leaves me breathless with surprise. His eyes widen and his mouth nearly cracks with the force of his smile. "You're just like a super-hero big brother!"

A super-hero. How naive and ignorant his explanation is. I suppose, in his eyes the label fits. He does not know the rounded corners of society. He has never been taught to question what he reads or to ponder such controversial issues like good or evil. When looked through such infantile eyes I would seem the hero. I help those who cannot help themselves. I do the ugly deeds written off in newspaper.

Society holds me in disdain and I am forced to hide. I raise my sword and kill for an ideal I do not understand. I shoot and I feel no remorse for the victim; it is not my place to question their morality. I do these things weekly and yet, have I ever sat down and pondered what I am? No, I have not. Really then, in the end which character am I playing?

The villain or the virtuous hero?

"Brother, was I wrong? I'm sorry if I was. I'll apologize again so don't be angry. Brother?"

It is his last words, pleading and desperate in tone, that draws me back to his existence. Here is a boy who needs no answer to such a question. No demands for truth or right or wrong. His needs are simple and his desires simpler still. In his presence there are no expectations I must fill or situations to process. He is a person who needs only me; Itachi without the deadly calm, without the supposed genius and skill. He needs only the person before him.

_This incomplete and original me._

I smile at him and leave a small kiss on his forehead before I let him go and ask about supper. His worries and doubts evaporate, taking mine along with them. I will not waste these moments with him on thoughts of righteousness. In his world I have created for him there is no need for something so archaic.

* * *

That night as planned I wait until I am sure Sasuke has fallen asleep before I slip into my office. As fragile as Sasuke is, particularly after the days' events, I do not want to scare him with something as alien as a cellphone. He would demand an explanation as well, one I was no mood to deliver.

No, it is best if he remains ignorant. The office is far enough away I have no fear of the boy over-hearing my words. Besides, Sasuke is far too exhausted to be awaken by the sound of my voice. I would not be calling if there were the slimiest chance of him over hearing me. He does not need to know any more of the outside world than he has to. Bringing Hatake over so soon was a mistake, one I regret making. Having my precious brother doubt me… I wish there was another way. Unfortunately, like what will happen this night, inviting Hatake into our lives was necessary.

Despite how early it is in the morning Hatake picks up his phone on the first ring. He answers with a groggy hello, awaken I am sure by my call. I pause before speaking, taking the moment to again appreciate the effect one can hold over another. To make a person to something with nothing more than a word. To ask, and known with absolute certainty that you will be answered…power, what a funny thing.

"Hatake, I need you to pick something up for me."

"Now?" he demands incredulously.

"Now." It is important he leaves at this time and picks up what I need. It isn't a matter if he will do it but simply when.

"But it's so early, why can't—"

I cut him off. "I found Sasuke in a corner, having not eaten all day. I cannot leave him and the man will not give the package over to just anyone. I have told him your name and description already, he will recognize you."

He is silent for a while, contemplating my words I am sure. I do not panic or worry he'll say no. That would be silly. Hatake cannot say no to me. To deny me is to deny Sasuke, an impossible task for both of us. Who could accomplish such a thing? Overcoming their weakness by themselves, pushing it aside for something else. Ridiculous. Humans will succumb to their desire without fail.

"Okay Itachi…I'll go. Where do I meet him?"

_Because no one can resist their weakness._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try hard to write characters with a true canon personality. Unfortunately when I started this story Itachi had not been revealed to be the kind, gentle man that we now know him as. I couldn't change him too much to fit that because of the plot. So I apologize for his un-canon personality.
> 
> As for Sasuke if he comes across as naive and innocent that is because of the circumstances concerning his upbringing in this story. I tried to keep him as canon as possible while adjusting what would be different if he only remembered Itachi. Sasuke also has been severely traumatized through out his life. This affects him. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are a writers bread and butter. We write faster when fed. :)


	4. The Bird Attacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short, crazy chapter because Deidara is just a little wacko :)

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR: THE BIRD ATTACKS**  

 

Two little cats. Meow, meow look at me I'm a beautiful cat. Look at me prance, look at me hunt, look at me look at me. I don't have to hear'em to know that's what their saying. All I gotta do is I watch the ugly little things. Watch them move, and behavior—there no need to listen when the body does the talking.

He talks most, the big cat with the claws, I watch  _him_  all the time. He prances more than the other cat—the one that hides. I can't stand Itachi. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him! What does he have? Why must everyone watch him? Why must they all like him? He is dead. A dead cat. A dead black kitty. What is so fun watching something that never moves? I don't get it. I hate him.

 _Watch me mommy, are you looking at me? Look_ _at the picture I drew isn't it pretty? Wait, don't look away. Hang up the phone please mommy. Mommy!_

That's okay, people won’t be able to see him soon enough. He'll be buried beneath me, in the ground; rotting. I'll fix Mother Nature's mistake, that disgusting wave that won't fit in with the rest of us. Everyone says he acts dead anyway, what will they care if I make the statement true? They won't! Ha ha! That's what the boss always tells us right? That no one cares. It's true, they don't. It's ‘cause we're really ghosts.

I remember when I became a ghost. It was real special yeah. Boss Sasori and Boss Kisame were there. The cat was there too. Dumb, shitty animal! He didn’t show any respect at all! What makes him so special huh? Why him! Why, why, why! Acting all superior, prancing around with that goddamn  _gloating_  air. News check freak- no one is looking okay? So stop pretending. It's annoying.

I'll kill Itachi then I can leave. I wont be a ghost anymore, I'll be real again. The chief won’t say anything when I go, yeah. He'll be so deep in awe of my art. It'll be great. I'll beat Itachi and everyone will be looking at me, me! Not the creepy cat.

I can't believe Pein thought I would like him. I don't know why he thought I would. Itachi's not like me one bit. He doesn't have any creativity at all. Or any appreciation for art. He doesn't have a sense of anything, the freak. It pisses me off. Pein goes on and on but Itachi can't do anything at all! I mean, when you get down to it he doesn't have anything really. I mean, sure, he can do  _everything._ But that just means he can't do anything though right? You catch my drift don't you?

Maybe the chief is crazy. Ha! I could see that. He thought I would like Boss Sasori too. People think I like him but I don't. I hate him. He thinks I'm stupid. He doesn't need to say it out loud, I can tell. But I'm not stupid. I'm smart. Smarter than those stupid cats at least. Maybe not the scorpion but better than the cats. I'm always better.

 _Look_ _mommy, I made a bird! Teacher says I can win the contest. Won't you come mommy? I'll win for sure so watch me. Watch me please. Please mommy…_

The big kitty is stupid and boring, he's no fun. The little kitty isn't though. He makes me laugh at him. Acting all innocent and shit. Itachi can't stop talking about sometimes, it’s disgusting. What does that little boy know? Nothing! Zip, zat, squat! He doesn't know anything at all. He smiles and dances and moves without even knowing how or why he does it.

Isn't that funny? He doesn't seem to ask questions at all. No why's or how's or can-you's. Just smiles. Doesn't he care? Or can he not think? Ha ha ha! There, that's it! He's a doll, a stupid doll for his big brother to fuck! That's just great! Wonder how he moves? Strings? Yeah, I bet that's it! 'Move over there brother' the big cat says, just like strings! Moan for me brother, ha ha! He pulls the strings and the doll dances.

It's sick yeah. Sick. Wonder if the doll will wake up. He needs a grandmother yeah. A fairy one to turn him into a real boy. A godmother dressed in black and blood. Stupid kitty. He'll never wake up. That's what Boss Sasori's taught me right? Dolls can't move if the master stops pulling the strings. It’s kinda sad yeah, Itachi won't be pulling nothin' soon. It's too bad, yeah. The godmother will be too late.

When he shows up I'll give him a real big bang. He won't even see it coming. It'll be the best show of his life. It'll be soon. Soon. I'm here on the big concrete boxes, looking down on'em. Boss Sasori said he's meeting him tonight so I tagged along. Boss Sasori doesn't like the big cat either. He'd like the little one though, 'cause he's a doll. Stupid doll. Why does everyone like things that don't move? I hate it. I hate'em.

 _Mom, I won!_ _Look, I got first prize! Aren't you going to congratulate me? Why are you talking to that man and not me? Where are you going? Mom! Mommy, don't leave!_

Lookie, here Boss Sasori is! Right on time like always. He's walking with some—hey, hey, that's not Itachi! He's got silver hair and slouchy eyes. He's like a puppy not a kitty. Itachi's stupid, yeah. How can he not show up for his own funeral? Hmm…silver hair, slouchy eyes…I've only watched the cats so why does he seem familiar? The puppy might work for someone, yeah maybe that's it. He could work for Itachi—ah ha! That's it! I remember 'cause that was the day Itachi didn't show up for the usual meeting. Sasori followed him so I could too and we saw the doggy walking with Itachi down the street, trailing behind him like a lovesick creep.

Man this is great! Ha ha, I couldn't expect something any more perfect. God must want Itachi dead too yeah, that's why he's doing this for me. Wonder how'd Itachi would like that? Knowing even God hate's him. I hate him more than God does though. I hate him and soon, I'll get to kill him. The doggy will know where Itachi lives. Gotta find the kitties before you can kill'em.

Stupid Boss Sasori makes things so difficult. I wouldn't even need this chance if he would have just let me tail the dumb cat. Stupid scorpion. Heh, heh, oh well. I'll get to kill Mr. Cat soon. Doggy will tell me exactly where to go, yeah. Found you puppy, no guarding the cats anymore. Big bang time!

Boss Sasori's giving him the package, some gun or somethin' probably. Wonder if I should make an entrance now? Yeah…yeah! Let's. As soon as Boss Sasori walks away…there! He's gone. That's the thing about birds. We can fly, high, high and away from everything. We can go so high no one can see us. We aren't bound like cats and dolls. We can fly. Aren't we better? We are. We're a lot better.

_I'm sorry I didn't pass the test mommy. I'll do better next time. Why are you walking away with that boy? Who's that man mommy? Stop, don't! Don't leave me, mommy!_

"Hey, who're you? Itachi said all I had to do was get the package. He never mentioned anything about speaking with anyone else."

I smile at him, big smile. He deserves a smile. Everyone, even the cats deserve a smile before they die. It'll make'em feel special. Even though they're not. No one's special. Not the ghosts, not the puppies and especially not the cats. Puppies are better than cats though, but they aren't birds. We're better. Not special, but better.

"Itachi didn't know I was coming yeah. Don't worry about it. Hey, hey, I bet you've seen the little one right? The small cat."

He gives me a dumb look. Like a dog, all confused and stupid. Can't do a thing without orders from the master huh? Stupid dog. I should help him. "Sasuke yeah. Uchiha Sasuke, Itachi's little fuck-doll."

Now he's blushing! Ha, ha ha! That's hilarious! He knows what those brothers do right? He's been in their house. Bet he watched them too. Sick perverts yeah. Itachi probably records'em. Bet they sit and watch the videos and get all worked up. Sick freaks. Cats and dogs should die. Go out with a big bang, yeah.

"Hey, what is that? Why are you—"

I'm still smiling. Gotta smile before they die, let'em see what they're missing. Life's fun, yeah. People scream and beg and you can walk away knowing you get to do all you've ever wanted to do and they don't get to even breath anymore. I love it a lot, almost more than my art. It’s fun to go home after a mission and make a big giant picture. I take a step back and know I made that. Dead people can't do that. Itachi can't something like that. The only thing he can ever make is giant blood puddles and big piles of corpses.

He's done it before, Boss Kisame told me about it. He told me how Itachi took a long knife and went from person to person slicing'em up. Wish I could have been there, it would have been a great show. Boss Kisame says Itachi is best with a sword, says he can't be beat if he's got one in his hands. Guess that's how he killed all those police people. Pisses me off yeah, doesn't matter what it is that strange creep can do it all. Every, little, thing.

_Why can't I join you mother? Why are you talking to this new boy and not me? Don't laugh with him. I'm better than him. I'm better!_

Ah man, I wasn't careful enough. The bomb only got a part of his arm. Shoot, how is he going to lead me now? Tch, stupid dog. You'd think he'd have better reflexes. He's screaming and screaming, god that's an awful sound. Dogs' howling is one of the worst sounds, yeah. It's high pitched and ugly. Cats still sound worse though. There is nothing good about cats.

"You're crazy! What do you want from me?"

Hey, hey, looks like the dog's got some guts. He's not screaming anymore either. Maybe he'll work after all. Gotta be careful though. He's not like me, he's stupid. I've gotta help each step of the way otherwise he'll mess it up. Wonder if he's scared of me? Ha ha he probably is! Bet I could freak him out more.

"Nothing. I'm just a crazy killer, yeah."

I was right! He is freaking out, it's hilarious! Clutching that arm of his like that and looking all white faced, you'd think he was looking at some kind of demon or something. 'Course not though, because the demon is in the house with the puppet. There sure is a bunch of blood is seeping out of his arm, he'd better hurry and take me to Itachi, yeah. Don't want him dying before he gets there. I should give him a hint, he's just a dog after all.

"Better run back to Master. Come on doggy, run!"

I threw another small bomb at him, making sure it landed really close to'em. Good old doggies, they are so good at following commands. He's running away. Probably to a car. Why cars? They're annoying. Never can tell when they'll go boom.

My bombs always go off when I tell'em to though. No flukes or mistakes with my stuff. That's because my art is perfect. Not even Boss Sasori has better art than I do. People have such a hard time seeing how much better I am though. I guess it's 'cause they're dumb. Stupid like that dumb cat. That's okay, I don't mind helping. Everyone will see how good it is someday.

 _Don't you see mommy? My art is the best huh? It's better than that other boy's. Why'd you leave me alone mommy? My art is great. You can tell now can't you? You're watching me now aren't you mommy? Sure you are. You're watching so stay till the_ _end. It's a big bang._

Just gotta follow Mr. Doggy now. He'll reach the kitties before I do but that's okay. He's taking me to Itachi. Man I can't stop shaking! I have waited so long for this. It's annoying but the big cat is good at running away and hiding stuff. Stupid cat plays tricks on everyone. Like a devil he makes everyone like him. I'm good but I can't beat Pein. I'm not stupid, I don't think I can. Bet Itachi thinks he could, 'cause he's so blind. They don't deserve to see my finale. Not Boss Sasori or Boss Kisame or even Pein. It's just going to be me, that freak and of course, his little puppet.

If I get little kitty I can get big kitty. This is what he gets yeah, for pretending to be perfect when he's not. That weird, dumb cat! Who's he fooling — pretending to be so grand when's he not. He's just like the rest of us! He's got a weakness too.

_Everyone has a weakness._


	5. The Crow Sets the Stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those who have commented so far! It means so much to me see someone likes the story enough to comment.

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE: THE CROW SETS THE STAGE**  

 

The city at night is perhaps the only time of day I can appreciate the beauty it has to offer. There is something about the low lights of the lampposts, the glare of fluorescent street signs and the soft glow of the moon. They seem to give out silent warnings that nothing is real. All is illusion.

How easy it is to relax and ignore the world, content to hide among the pounding noise and neon lights of a night club. To believe that here, among the loud laughter of the drunk and the flirting of the desperate, that you belong.

I believe that is why decency and morals slip away with the sun, leaving the desires so carefully guarded in the day to be free and seen among the creatures of the night. You can do anything, be anyone. Why shouldn’t you? In the illusion of the night no one sees who you are; only the manifestation of their personal illusion. You are free.

I hear the thud of frantic feet and shift my attention to the alley south of me. I knew Hatake would take him to our office. He would not, even in the agony of his pain, endanger Sasuke. I would not have allowed Hatake the privilege of seeing my brother if I had even the slightest doubt of his resolve. Sasuke’s safety will not be comprised by the slightest miscalculations.

The resounding shrill echo of Deidara's bombs howl in the night, alerting me of his promiscuity to myself. He is not far behind Hatake. I shake head with mirth. Poor Deidara, so easy to manipulate.

Hatake comes into view. His hands is clutching his left thigh as he struggles to run forward, blood seeping out between his fingers. The man would be dead if the blonde fool had not been so hell-bent on finding me. He is lucky Deidara only wished him to come to me.

Hatake staggers as he catches sight of me, relief floods his face. "Itachi, some freak attacked me. He has bombs!"

I nod at Hatake and gesture to the large double red doors of our office just ahead of me. He gets the idea and does his best to keep his wound from bleeding much more as he scrambles up the stairs. Nowhere in his mind does he question my ability to deal with the 'freak' as he so eloquently labeled Deidara. I suppose I should find his blind faith in me reassuring instead of comical. Oh the privileges of a normal life.

I had grown up as the heir of a very old family. As the eldest of such a local revered clan my father had expectations of me that he made clear were to be met. I was tutored in many occupations as I grew.  One of them was naturally, the use of a sword. He seemed to believe that because our ancestors were samurai we needed to be able to wield a blade with functional efficiency. Ridiculous. 

Of course he could not have foreseen how I would use the skills he insisted I acquire. Perhaps if my father had, he and the rest of the family would be alive. How fortunate for me he had been a short-sighted old man.

The soft scrapping noise my blade makes as I draw it out resounds clearly in the quiet of the night. I rarely choose to use the katana given to me so many years ago. I find it too hard to separate the satisfying blood lust from the feel of the rough leather hilt against my palm. They mingle and ignite each other. No, for my jobs with Pein I must remain in control. A good sniper rifle or the occasional semi-automatic usually suffices.

Tonight however, I will allow myself to use the old katana. Deidara can feel the wrath, the blood lust. He deserves it. I will not allow anyone to hurt my Sasuke. No one will touch him.

_He is mine to protect._

I watch for the first sign of Deidara. The bellowing folds of his cloak are the first I see of him. Easing into my stance I raise my blade and began the form. Mere seconds pass before I see his body leap out into the road, blond hair flying out behind him. I take note of several clay bombs in his hands, registering and anticipating the battle flow that will occur. 

Deidara's eyes grow wide in anticipation as he catches sight of me. I do not give him time to adjust his landing as I spring forward, blade raised high to my left. He reacts but not soon enough. I feel my blade make contact with his leg. It slices through, cutting the artery I know runs up his thigh.

It would be convenient if that is all it took to take him down. I know better. He is after all, a member of Akatsuki. Soon, the bombs will come. The wound causes him momentary relapse and just as I turn my blade to stab him through his shoulder several bombs come tumbling out of his palm to hit the ground between us. I recognize the signature tan and grey container and quickly close my eyes, trusting the ear plugs in my ears to protect my hearing.

The light erupting from the bombs sends a pounding wave over me. The precaution I took protects me from the majority of the damage and it is with ease I let my katana continue its course. I feel the blade sink into the skin just below his neck. In a smooth motion I slide the blade to the left. Lout and shrill Deidara’s scream attacks the night. The pain in his voice is clear, assuring me of my success.

I open my eyes and turn, taking in his body on the ugly black cement next to me. He is still screaming but not moving. It would be hard to do so I imagine, without an intact spinal cord connecting his head to his body. He might not be able to move but his heart still beats. I needed to fix that. 

Pulling out my ear plugs I begin to hear Deidara yelling some sort of obscurity at me. I think I actually heard him call me a cat. How delusional was he? I shake my head sadly. I will not miss him. I doubt the others will either. There is no such thing as camaraderie among the Akatsuki. We are murders there to do our job, not chat or enjoy deranged company.

"Deidara be quiet. No one wants to hear you speak."

That is not what he wants to hear. Deidara begins swearing and increases his attempt to move. It is sad really. He might have lived if not for his unprovoked hatred of me. After all, he held no connections with my target. He cared too much and knew too little to be useful to anyone. As I watch him yell in agony I am grateful I severed his spinal cord; seeing him toss his arms and feet around would just be too unsightly to bear.

Lifting my blade above his throat I say goodbye, bringing it down cleanly. I watch with satisfaction as his head rolls away, almost smiling. One threat gone. My Sasuke is safe. After cleaning my blade on Deidara's shirt I hover the blade above its sheath. A soft shuffling noise behinds has the action halted and reversed, blade rising again into the start of another form.

The man behind me chuckles and the sound of the footsteps stop. “No fear Itachi, I do not intend you harm. Out here in the open I am aware of my chances against you. Put your katana away boy before one of us ends up dead.”

My shoulders relax as I recognize Sasori’s voice. I do not let my stance fall however until I see him walk up to stand next to his dead partner, more focused on the dead blonde than myself. I do not let go of my grip on the sword. He is Deidara's partner after all. Was I suppose. You cannot be a partner of a corpse. If he thought to exact revenge he would be disappointed.

Sasori looks even smaller in his Akatsuki cloak than he usually did. Was the man aging? No, perhaps not. His face looks as soft and as youthful as ever. I do my best to let the observation go, storing it away for future use. Another time I will ponder it. Not now. 

He senses my intent and waves a hand dismissively at me. "I am not here to avenge Deidara, the moron deserved it. If he could die that easily we are better off without him."

"Why are you here then Sasori?"

Instead of responding I watch him bend down to lift and move his partner’s body, clearly inspecting the state of the corpse. "You did a good job keeping it clean, efficient. I thank you. I will take care of his body for you. You need not wait for me. I know that dog of yours is licking his wounds. Might be a good idea to check on him."

I am well aware of Sasori's recreational hobbies. If he wanted to fill Deidara's body with porcelain then he could. I have no interest in it. He is welcome to the lunatic’s corpse. One more task then I could go home. Wearily I sheath my katana.

Not giving Sasori another look I let my feet carry me across the dark black asphalt. Sasori following us here was not something I had anticipated. Helpful, but not expected. I will have to take time to consider my options. Plans can be adjusted and moved if need be.

Cold metal against my palms drew me back to the task at hand. A soft pull and the door opens for me. The law firm Hatake and I share has the usual formal waiting room out front for clients and it is there I enter into. Maroon carpets and flawless stucco meet my eyes. I take a moment to enjoy the familiarity before turning towards the large couches set directly behind the full length windows staring out at the parking lot.

Hatake is sitting there, his leg nestled protectively in his lap. The white first-aid kit is splayed out on the unoccupied end of the blue sofa. It appears his wound has been properly taken care of. Hatake, despite the pain, would not have missed watching me kill Deidara. The large blood stain I notice peeking out beneath him only serves to reaffirm my suspicion. Curiosity it appeared, would kill not only the cat but the dog as well.

Hatake had followed my entrance into the room and is staring at me now, fear rolling off of him. I would attempt a reassuring smile but really, that would only scare him more. Irregularity could do that. Instead I catch his attention, silently giving him the permission to speak first.

"Who are you?" he asks finally, his voice hoarse.

Hatake must be talking about my abilities with a katana; he knew me well enough to not be surprised at my indifference in killing others. Or perhaps it was my effectively at the mentioned task? No matter.

"Have no fear Hatake, I do not wish you harm. You have a very important role to play. As skilled as I am I cannot be in two places at once. I will not allow harm to come to Sasuke. You will protect him when I cannot."

He gives a deep sigh and rises from the couch. "I don’t want to know what you are mixed up in Itachi. I do however, have little doubt in my role tonight. I was just bait for that freak." He looks troubled, his visible eye furrowing deeply with thought. "But…Sasuke…" I see his hands clench then relax slowly, his breath coming out jutted spurts. "I do not wish to see Sasuke hurt. What do you want me to do?"

I feel my lips quirk up with the urge to smile. It is always reassuring to see ones plan fall neatly into place. Bending down I retrieve the hastily discarded manila envelope. His eyes on me and my actions I easily tear open the top of the package. I let the soft moonlight streaming into the room illuminate its contents. His eyes widen as they fall onto the black hilted knife and the edge of a festival mask. With a start he glances up at me, the uncertainty and fear of the unspoken request widening his eyes.

Knowing and trusting that he will react as I need him to I lift the envelope up, open side out to him. "Take a seat Hatake, it will be a long night."

* * *

When I return to our house Sasuke is seated at the table, the small light of the kitchen alcove casting a beautiful glow across his face. I let myself stop in the doorway and enjoy the sight of him. I love the way his hair seems to fight with itself whether to fall gracefully as it does in the front or rebel and spike in all directions. I love how his lips always seem on the verge of a pout. His rebellious spirit, his never ending need for attention--all of him I adore. Ah, my Sasuke. Everything, everything is for him. 

As I walk closer to Sasuke I notice the book in between his hands. He has been waiting up. To my vast amusement I see two mugs, fresh, judging by the steam swirling up into the air. How could he have known when I would be back? No, my eyes flick up to look in the kitchen sink to my left. Stacked uncaring on top of each other are six other mugs.

A chuckle manages to escape my lips. I still had the ability to laugh? What a pleasant surprise. Sasuke had not known when I would return. Despite that my stubborn brother had decided to be ready anyway, filling a new mug after one cooled. I let my arms encircle his shoulders, breathing deep his scent. Love.

Beneath my arms he wiggles to turn his head to catch my eyes. I stare in them and see that is all well.

"Welcome home big brother. Did you have a good night?" he asks innocently.

No anger. No accusation. He has complete trust in me. Yes I think contently. I did have a good night. I tell him so as I seat myself in the chair next to him. The coffee is perfect and is with pleasure I bring the cup to my lips, drinking slowly. It is only after the third sip I notice him staring at me.

"What is it Sasuke?"

Slowly and hesitantly his hand reaches out towards my face. I feel the soft brush of his fingers across my cheek before they pull away. He has not moved his hand back to its previous place atop the table. Rather he holds it out to me, revealing the deep red blotting his perfect creamy hand. Blood. It must have been Deidara. I was not in the habit of cleaning up before returning home as I had not needed to before. Sasuke would be awake often when I made my way to our bed but he had never been downstairs waiting for me. I would have to change that routine of mine then.

"Does it scare you?" I ask softly, reaching my own hand to reverently cover the red smear across his fingers.

He says nothing. Immediately, choosing instead to simply stare at our joined hands. How will he act? Does he care? I find the curiosity prickling my mind with its growing itch. I cannot move first, he must or it will not be his emotions; just reactions.

It takes longer than I would like but soon he pulls his hand away and stands, moving wordlessly over to the sink. Silence hangs in the air, taunting and loud in its monopoly of our house. It seems almost as if the night is questioning us: What will happen? Will he reject the side of you he has so pinned to see? Will something change? It has to at some point. You cannot stop it. You know it is coming.

A soft click cuts through the stillness as I watch Sasuke open a drawer. I watch him intently, catching sight of a deep red color as he dips what I conclude must be a rag in the sink before coming back to me.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he raises the rag to my face. The cold water stings against my cheek as I feel him gently rub the blood away. It is quiet—as if said without realization---but I hear the words fall from his lips into the night.

“You are not hurt. That is all that matters.”

His words incite such tenderness in me I cannot keep still any longer. Lifting my hand I let it encircle Sasuke’s wrist. Bringing it to my mouth I kiss the inner-side gently. “Sasuke you did not answer me,” I remind him.

His eyes widen with the soft authority lining my words. He knows better than to attempt a diversion. I love him but I needed to know; Do I scare him?

"No," he says slowly. I can hear the consideration in his voice. This was not an easy answer for him. He has spent a good amount of time thinking about it. "You do not scare me big brother.” His eyes close and for a moment I fear he will cry for his face contorts with such emotion. “It is not your blood. Just as long as it is never your blood.”

I hear the words not spoken, the love not yet given form. He worries. It is odd to hear him so concerned for my safety. I suppose in all my plans I have not stopped to consider the possibility he would worry for me. It does not feel bad however. In fact, I find myself enjoying the sensation it causes within me.

I reach up to touch his hand and hold it softly against my face. "Did you not say I was a super-hero?" He smiles sheepishly at my question, aware of course that I was teasing him. My hold on his hand turns tighter until I can hear the sharp intake of his breath. "I am your super-hero Sasuke so I will always come home. So long as you are alive I will always come back to you."

The passionate kiss he suddenly leans in for is not expected and that is okay. I have no need to factor my Sasuke into my plans: he will always do what I want. I am his world as he is mine. All is as it should be.

_My weakness is here safe. I am safe._

 


	6. A Fox Gets Curious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did my best with the chapter but if there are improperly used words or grammatical errors I apologize. The chapters so far have not been beta'ed yet. I just recently got one though so from chapter seven on they will be! Hope you enjoy it.

**CHAPTER SIX: A FOX GETS** **CURIOUS**

 

I saw the painting on display inside the office Shikamaru worked at. It stood on a low wooden table out front where they kept the prospective clients waiting. I had been fidgeting and moaning that my friend was taking so long. We had clubs to visit and girls to hit on. I saw it by accident, my eyes catching it as I passed down the hallway.

It was a large canvas, easily three feet square. I couldn’t figure out what it was at first but the swirling deep blues and reds of the painting had caught me, holding me fast with the intricate patterns shown. I must have stared at it for ten minutes before the image came to me. It was a boy. He had his knees and head on the floor with his hands covering his ears. It was hard to see him because the colors kept swirling and swirling all around him as if pulling him into the colors until he disappeared.

I loved it.

I had stopped thieving back in junior high but staring at this picture made me want to do it again. I wanted this thing bad. I wasn’t real sure why. Heck, I didn’t even like art. This thing called to me though. I couldn’t describe it any other way.

I was still standing there staring at the canvas when Shikamaru finally came out. He gave me a real funny look. “Naruto you okay?” he asked.

I swerved in place to face him, my finger jutting out to point at the picture. “Dude! Did you see this? Who painted it man? I need this, like really bad.”

His funny look turned to one of real patience. “Give up. There is no signature on them. No one knows who paints the pictures the boss hangs in here. He brought the first one in about a few weeks ago. They just show up and change periodically, usually within days.”

Change? Did that mean the picture was going to disappear? Like, I’d never see it again? That wasn’t going to happen. I wouldn’t let it. “Who is your boss? I will ask him. He has to know who the artist is if he buys them.”

Shikamaru’s eyes widened and his lips pressed tightly together. “Drop it. Seriously. You don’t want to talk to Mr. Uchiha. _I promise.”_

If I hadn’t known better Shikamaru almost sounded afraid. Who would be that afraid of their boss? He couldn’t be that bad.

“Come on, don’t be like that. Introduce me! If you don’t I will just walk in and find him myself.”

Shikamaru liked that idea less. Ha, knew it. If I was good at something it was making a nuisance of myself. He groaned and complained about it but in the end I found myself waiting in one of the red cushioned chairs somewhere past the ‘employees only’ sign.

I did my best to keep my fidgeting to a minimum. I had to be real good if I was going to get this guy to tell me who that artist was. None of my usual fun. Nope, I had too much at stake. I had to get that painting.

After a little more than an hour the door opened behind me. I turned my head to get a good look at the guy who made Shikamaru pale. He…wasn’t what I had expected. The owner of Anbu Law Firm had be in his early twenties, maybe. The long worry lines down from his eyes made it hard to tell. He was dressed like a lawyer in a nice suit and stuff. It looked good on him, natural. He kept his long black hair out of the way with a simple red tie. But he was pretty. Like, I should be on the cover of a magazine pretty. What was a guy like this doing as a lawyer?

“I was told you wished to meet me?” he asked, his voice quiet and disinterested.

I watched him walk over to the tall wooden chair behind the big desk ahead of me. He kept his arms loose but I could see the tension in his shoulders. Despite the visible tension he moved with such grace and poise I knew instantly he was dangerous. As he got closer to me I noticed the pale, ashen skin of his face and hands. Man, this guy was weird. Not awkward I have no social skills weird just...so perfect he didn’t seem real kinda of weird. No wonder Shikamaru was afraid. Was the dude even real?

“You look busy Mr. Uchiha so I will try to be quick.” I had thought about what to say a lot. It wasn’t hard to do; I had a whole bloody hour to think about it. An owner of a firm like this had to be busy. He would appreciate getting to the point. “I saw the painting in the foyer and wanted to know who painted it.”

Now, I am a real good judge of people. Jiraiya, my godfather, said that my intuition was what had kept me alive ‘till I found him. I can read people. I know’em even if I was meeting them for the first time. Don’t know how but I do. And this guy, this guy was funny in a really not funny way. Alarm bells rang in my head. Something was seriously wrong with him. Why hadn’t anyone investigated him? He was hiding something. I didn’t know what but like I said; I know people.

“The artist wishes to remain anonymous. That is why he does not sign the canvas. Is that all?”

No. No it wasn’t I told myself silently. “Can you pass a message to him then? Tell him I want one of his paintings. Or can I just take the one in the foyer? Shikamaru tells me you guys change’em out a lot. I really like it.”

His answer short, his tone even shorter. “No.”

I was growing irritated. He was mean. Couldn’t he just answer a simple question? “Alright can you tell me anything about the artist himself?”

Apparently we were done talking. Uchiha, I didn’t catch his first name, stood up from the seat. “No I cannot. I assure you the artist is flattered by your appreciation. However, I do not allow the artwork to leave the firm. Neither does he take commissions. That is all.”

He stared at me then. I knew creepy. For years I had slept on the other side of an alley from creepy. This guy? This guy took the cake. His eyes were hollow inside. Something was missing from this man, something important. His occupation as a lawyer made sense now.

“Alright sir, thank you for your time,” I said, smiling. I didn’t like to do it often but I knew how to be polite. I rose from my chair and quickly left the room.

I wasn’t going to get anywhere with him. He was hiding something and it had to do with the paintings. The only time his face showed the barest hint of emotions was when I said I wanted the painting. If I wanted one of those pictures I was going to have to find a way to get one by myself. Not a big problem. I didn’t back down. Nope, not Naruto Uzumaki. When I found something I wanted, I got it.

* * *

Somehow ended up being a month on the streets, sleeping next to some old man who kept talking to himself. Yeah it wasn’t pretty but not even Uchiha looked at the homeless. They see more than people think. Who walked were and when. I knew from personal experience how to track someone by hiding in plan site. I’ve done it before. Shikamaru told me I should go get my detective license. Someday I might but right now I had an artist to find.

I talked to the guys on the streets and found out some pretty interesting things. Like how Itachi—that was the creep’s first name--Uchiha here didn’t take the same route from the office to his house twice. Each day it was different. This guy was paranoid. I didn’t dare attempt to follow him; he would have spotted me.

I managed to get one of the janitors back at Mr. Stuck-Ups firm to tell me he always saw Mr. Uchiha carrying the paintings by himself now. So if he carried them, and he didn’t drive, then he must have a stash somewhere. My methods were dirty and stinky but they worked.

So I sat huddled on one street for a day or two before switching to another, noting and writing down what time I saw him and where. I had to change ragged clothing and signs a few times but that easy. It took a long time but I managed to pin his location down to a three block radius.

I allowed myself a sweet little hum as I ran my hands through my hair. Man it felt good to be clean. Almost as good as beating that jerk in his little game. I made sure to hit my target zone during the weekday morning when I knew Uchiha would be at work. I couldn’t get spotted by him. I had feeling he’d find a way to make me end up inside a jail cell if he caught him stalking him.

My eyes wandered around the homes and businesses. It was possible he bought the paintings but I doubted it. Someone that possessive over something usually meant it was personal. This area of Konoha was pretty run down. It wasn’t the ghettos but for a lawyer he certainly could have afforded somewhere better.

I had been walking for most of the morning and about to give up when I saw this weird place. It was kind dark being so far from any streetlights but from what I could tell there was graffiti painted across the concrete front, just below some weird rectangle windows. The door was a steel color. That didn’t seem right. Konoha had lots of color, especially this area.

I walked over to it my curiosity propelling me to get a better look at the garage. I knew better than to stand too close; security cameras were amazing things these days.

I couldn’t hear anything but that was okay. I knew I’d found the right place. The door had four locks on the front and if I was seeing right it had four on the inside too. Someone had something they wanted to keep safe.

Whistling I forced myself to admit defeat before the lock picks left my pocket. Those were top of the line security. If I so much as touched the inside mechanisms I was sure an alarm would be sent to Uchiha. This guy was paranoid. I just had to get inside and see what was there. It was bound to be something incredible.

I spent the remainder of the morning and early afternoon trying to figure out how to get into the place. The building looked like a warehouse but was tighter than anything I’d seen before. How was I going to get in? By four I knew if I was getting inside, I wasn’t going to find a way to do it today. I was going to need at least a week to crack it. I couldn’t hang around here that much for that long; Itachi would catch on. I needed another way.

My eyes drifted up the building and around it. Despite its warehouse appearance this was a residential district. Which meant, my eyes light up. It meant that things like say, a small boarding house, could be located next to Uchiha’s place. Like the large wooden complex conveniently built just a few yards away from Itachi’s personal prison. I felt my grin breakout into a broad smile. I would get in if it was the last thing I did. Itachi might be a genius but I was much more stubborn.

 

“Yes Jiraiya, I know the place is a dump. Yes, I know I can afford much better but I’m a man on a mission. I need to find out what this guy is hiding. Yep I will call you if I need help.”

I let the phone flap shut before stuffing it back in my pocket. I hadn’t wanted Uchiha to know someone was moving in so I kept my stuff small enough to fit inside two duffel bags and snuck in during the early hours of the morning. The building closest to Itachi’s was an old broken down boarding house. The place had been left to the uninterested big bank who, judging by the state of decay, didn’t care a dime about it.

I have spent plenty of time on the streets. Compared to that this was living in luxury. A few weeks here wouldn’t be a big deal; Jiraiya was just protective. He had heard of Itachi Uchiha but not much. As much as I liked to believe it differently that guy scared me. The more learned about Uchiha Itachi the more unnerved I became. Neither Jiraiya nor I could find any of his records past the establishment of his firm. It said he went to law school and lived somewhere in rain country for a while but the addresses listed didn’t exist. He didn’t have any relatives listed either. It was like he was a ghost.

The lack of information just made me want to find out more. It was a challenge and Naruto Uzumaki never backed down from a challenge.

Getting a grasp on Uchiha’s schedule wasn’t hard. He left his house every day at the same time, differing only on a few very rare occasions. I made sure he didn’t run into me when I left my little make-shift apartment. I had no doubt he would recognize me. The matter of his hideout—it didn’t look a house and he was jerk, so it was a hideout--was a different matter altogether.

He had cameras every four yards; including the roof. The door was a no-win unless I was willing let Uchiha know who I was and when I broke in. Considering he was a lawyer, I decided against it. A well-aimed rock assured me of the bullet-proof qualities of his windows. Wasn’t getting in through there. Did I mention the windows were darkened? I couldn’t even see through most of them. I’d found only one I could see into. It was my best bet.

Which left me here, sitting outside my balcony, binoculars pressed up against my eyes staring through the little window. A flicker of movement caught my eye, my breath stopping with the excitement of it. I had been here two weeks already but this was my first real lead.

That when I noticed him. He looked to be about my age but that was where the similarity stopped. He had deep black hair that seemed to shine blue. It fell in perfect waves to either side of his head to frame a flawless face. His hair was styled spikey in the back, the up-due of it drawing more attention to a pair of deep black eyes.

I knew he must be related to Uchiha, the looks were similar enough. Brother’s maybe? But I couldn’t seem to get my mind to use the information; it was too preoccupied with how beautiful he was. If I hadn’t seen his blue t-shirt clinging to his flat chest I might have been willing to guess it was female; he was that breathtaking.

It was about this time I realized I was staring at him through my binoculars and totally being a creep. Reluctantly I set them down and sighed. I’d seen a lot of people but none of them were like this guy. He moved so gracefully and those eyes and lips…I had to meet him. I couldn’t just walk over and knock on the door though. Wait, the door. My wind whirled, putting together the pieces of information I had managed to gather.

Locks on the front door, both inside and out. Bulletproof windows, cameras at every angle to prevent any blind spots. I had been staking this house for weeks looking for a way in. That didn’t even include the months stalking Uchiha to just find the place. All that time I thought and thought about what could be so important about those paintings to go to such lengths. My mind had conjured up so many possibilities.  None of them had included a beautiful bird locked in a cage.

The idea seemed preposterous but it made sense too. Uchiha hadn’t even been willing to talk about the paintings. From what Shikamaru said he willing to talk about himself at all either. Perhaps…I felt my skin begin to sweat. Perhaps he wasn’t keeping someone from getting in as much as someone from getting out.

I was still standing out on the balcony looking at the place when the window in the room opened. I didn’t know how long it would be open but I wasn’t going to lose the opportunity. I couldn’t climb in, the window was far too small. So how was I going to get him to notice me?

I ran back into my room, glancing around. I didn’t have much. An orange sleeping bag, a few green duffle bags filled with food and clothes. A pile of papers stacked up next to my sleeping bag…wait; that might work. A few quick steps took me to the stack of papers where I grabbed the first blank one.

I did my best to use my most legible handwriting as I scrawled the words across the center of it; _‘What is your name? I’m Naruto._ _I live next door.’_

Back in the day I didn’t a lot toys. People threw papers away all the time though so I had gotten pretty good at making paper airplanes to play with. After I had finished making my airplane I ran out to the balcony. The window was still open; good. I aimed carefully then let my message loose. Like I said, I was good with these things.

I watched in joy as the airplane flew into the window to land perfectly at his feet. He looked shocked as if he hadn’t ever seen anything like it. He didn’t even touch it. He just stood there staring at it for the next five minutes. Finally he glanced about then quickly shut the window. It was harder to see but with the aid of my wonderful binoculars I was able to watch as the guy opened the airplane and read the message.

He glanced about searching I am sure for me. He couldn’t see me though, that was much was clear when he finally gave up. I was ready to admit defeat when I noticed him open the window again. He must not have known how to make a paper airplane because he had a small folded piece of paper in his hand and a…knife? I watched with fascination as he rolled the paper around the knife’s hilt before throwing it out against my building.

He was good. The knife landed deep into the wood paneling outside of my room. It wasn’t a paper airplane but this worked. From the positon of the balcony and his window he couldn’t see me just standing on it but if I stood on the railing and leaned out he could catch a glimpse. Which is what I had to do to retrieve the knife. Hopefully he had watched me. I wanted him to know what I looked like.

After retrieving the message I stepped back down to the wood balcony. With glee I unwrapped the note. The guy’s handwriting was perfect. _‘Why should I tell you my name? What do you want?’_

He was as suspicious as Uchiha. Okay, what to respond with…

_‘I just want to be friends. I moved in next door. I didn’t think anyone lived here.’_

Another knife message. I was going to replace the boards in this place if he kept it up.

_‘Friends? What do you mean anyone lived here? It is a house like yours.’_

The message confirmed my suspicions. He had never seen the outside of the building he lived in. If he had, he would know it didn’t look like a house. Why? Why hadn’t he left? Did he even want to? I didn’t want to press the issue. My gut told me that I was working with something very delicate. When my gut told me things I tended to believe it.

I opted for something simpler _. ‘It just looked deserted that’s all. What is your name?’_

_‘Sasuke.’_

I loved the way it rolled off my tongue when I said it. I had trouble remembering that I was camping out in this room to find out what Uchiha was hiding. Talking to Sasuke seemed to take hold of my whole body, leaving room for nothing else.

Over the course of the next week I exchanged notes with Sasuke. It'd send his knives back to him I figured they weren't as easy to get as my paper was. We exchanged notes all day, one after another. They got longer each time, sometimes using up a whole page.

I felt like I was a kid again passing secret messages to my best friend. We never sent them while Uchiha was home. I didn’t mind; it made the notes feel even more special. I loved the idea that I was getting away with something the almighty Itachi didn’t know about.

I hadn’t stopped trying to figure out how to get in but if I was being honest it kinda took backseat. When I wasn’t sending paper airplanes to Sasuke’s window I was sitting in the room, looking over the notes we’d exchanged. I told myself it was because I’d never had a best friend before. Growing up no one wanted to play with a homeless kid. I had friends now and some of them probably considered me a best friend but I knew better.

Shikamaru, he had Choji. Those two clicked and you could tell. They knew what each other were thinking and their friendship was always there, deep and strong. Kiba had his dog. It sounded silly but it was true. No one came in between Kiba and Akamaru. A best friend, a _true_ best friend was the person you put before all your other friends. I hadn’t found someone like that yet. Until now.

It sounded silly really. I was probably the only guy who Sasuke had ever met aside from brother. We’d exchanged a lot of notes in the week we’d been talking. I learned he was the artist behind the painting at Shikamaru’s work. He had even sent me a little picture of a fox he’d drawn. I had it hung above my sleeping bag in the corner.

About mid-way through the week I finally gotten courage to ask him why he didn’t want to come and hang out. He didn’t send a message the rest of the day. Or the next. I had nearly given up when I finally got a response. It hadn’t said much but I got the gist. His brother said their parent’s killer was trying to find him so he couldn’t leave.

He hadn’t said anything past that and I didn’t want to press. At least I knew Sasuke wasn’t being kept there by force. He loved tomatoes and the color blue. He was eighteen, just a couple months older than I was. Small, useless trivia but I loved it. I wanted to know more.

I told myself that I kept looking at the notes because I was bored but deep down, I knew better. I was falling for the guy hard. We didn’t dare send messages while Uchiha was home nor did I dare attempt a peek through the window. After more than a week of no messages I finally gave in to the temptation.

_It changed everything._

The window opened up to what I figured must be a bedroom. From my vantage point I could see the very edge of a big black bed. Itachi stood there, one hand tangled in the spikes of Sasuke’s hair, the other snaked around his body to press up against his lower back, pushing them together. And they were kissing. Really kissing. Tongues down each other’s throat kissing. And Sasuke…Sasuke looked to be loving it. His eyes were closed and cheeks flushed a rosy red, his hands grabbing Uchiha’s red button-up as if it was his only lifeline.

They broke away for a moment, faces falling to let their foreheads touch. Then Itachi began sliding Sasuke’s shirt up over his head. He was as muscular as I thought he would be. I felt my stomach wrench as I Sasuke hastily begin stripping his brother. No…Sasuke was not being forced, he wanted it.

I was being creepy, I knew that. Still I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. Something sick and possessive had taken control of my mind.

With Itachi undressed Sasuke fell to his knees, disappearing from sight. I didn’t have to see them to figure out what they were doing. I was getting hard just imagining what Sasuke must look like. Did I want Sasuke doing that to me? Yeah, I did. No doubt about that. Sasuke finally pulled back to stand, attacking Itachi’s neck. They fell together atop the big black bed, and thus, out of my view.

I let my binoculars fall limp in my hands. Ignoring the noise they made as they clattered to the cement balcony. Stunned, horny and hurt, I sunk down to the ground.

I should have been bothered most by the fact they were clearly brothers and obviously sleeping together. But I wasn’t. What hit me was how happy Sasuke looked. The look on his face as he stared at Uchiha. That hurt, bad.  I sat there in a pathetic ball, my arms wrapped around my legs trying to deal with the stupid knot of rejection that seemed to have taken over my heart.

Somewhere during the messages we had sent to each other I had convinced myself that I meant as much to Sasuke as he did to me. I was wrong, Itachi meant more. I could see it in his eyes as he stared at his brother.  

It didn’t occur to me that night, or even the next few weeks, that perhaps Sasuke didn’t know any better. But it would and when I realized it, I decided Itachi’s fate. Court system be damned Uchiha wouldn’t ever see the inside of a jail cell. I’d kill him myself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudo's are a writers bread and butter! The more we are fed the faster we write :D


	7. The Crow and His Plotting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters.
> 
> A shout-out to my super awesome beta Coffeepills. Thank you so much! This is the first chapter so far that as been beta'ed, hence the extra week. It may become updated every two weeks instead of one, we will see. Anywho's here is a nice big chapter to help make up for the extra week wait. Hope you enjoy it!

**CHAPTER SEVEN: THE CROW AND HIS PLOTTING**

 

It is something of a mystery to me that in all I have done, nothing has truly gone wrong. I am meticulous man by nature and thus, prepare as needed yet so much remains in the hands of those I do not trust. Was the motivation strong enough? The bait I am dangling too tempting to resist? My observations and analysis inform me that they should but not everyone does what they should. One choice, one simple unlucky draw of the hat and I will be left relying on plan b or c. The uncertainty of it leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth. Trust in others is a distasteful reality of life.

Trust comes in many forms. My sweet little brother, asleep in the room over, trusts me in all manner for he knows nothing else. I on the other hand, have seen far more than one of my age should have. As such I trust only as far as I have been given proof. The evidence laid so clearly in my mind speaks of a pattern, of greed festering in those around me. Untamed, growing greed. No amount of planning or perfectly laid bait will matter if my judgment is incorrect. One of these days my assumption of their desire will fail me. When that happens, I only pray everything does not fall apart. I cannot live without Sasuke. He is the only reason I am still alive.

Fluorescent blue light blinks in front me, reminding my tired brain that I am sitting at my desk in my office, the computer screen displaying the layout of an art museum Pein wanted…rearranged. I sigh and let my fingers massage between my eyes. It is early and I did not slept much last night.

What little sleep I managed to catch was plagued by worry. My dearest little brother has begun expiating strange behavior. Sasuke will be overly affectionate then bounce off, happily leaving me alone. If that wasn't odd enough as a single incident, he retired late to bed tonight. He has been staying up far later than usual to work on a new piece than ever before. Clearly it has been done in an effort to hide the picture from me. He even went as far as to cover the mentioned piece with another canvas.

His simple attempts are naturally futile. I have seen the unfinished work. I do not like it. Sasuke only knows what I have approved for him to. All the books I purchase for him have been read and assessed before they enter the home. It would not do for him to get curious about things he has no need of. As such his world is kept limited and safe, thus his paintings predictable.

The brilliant orange and yellow fox he is taking such pains to keep secret is not predictable. It is a magnificent work of art, the colors vibrant—almost alive. It is an animal but the piercing blue eyes seem almost human, as if I have seen them before. He often draws animals but this picture is different. I cannot give examples for the reasoning behind the difference but it is there. He is a representative artist. This means something and I have a feeling it is not good.

The painting aside, Sasuke has been secretive as of late. I assume it has something to do with his missing practice knives. He has not mentioned them but I noticed their absence earlier. I will have to spend time tomorrow looking into it. For now, Pein has a job he wants done. Unfortunately my work for him has to come first. In time that will change but for now Kisame is waiting for me at the usual place. From there we will rendezvous with Sasori at the museum. If everything goes as planned perhaps I will be back for lunch with Sasuke.

* * *

 

Kisame is waiting for me outside the old bakery as I have asked. It is a dismal sort of place in the area of town where law is decided by power rather than justice. Twisted worn, wrought iron fencing made a porch out front of the ruined red bakery. What was once beautiful tiled round tables sit forgotten and broken across the picked square. The building's roof was caved in long ago, the windows broken and the chairs stolen. This bakery was an early causality of an old battle, forgotten and ignored. Kisame and I often meet here before continuing on to our target. I am comfortable here among all the broken things.

Kisame has found a low round, intact table to sit on. In his mouth is the usual large cigar, both of his tommy-guns casually propped up against his legs. Noticing my approach he removes the cigar to smile wide, his sharp teeth shining against his black skin.

"Good evening Mr. Itachi. What fun do we have planned for tonight?" His eyes pass over me, searching I am sure for my usual sniper rifle. Finding the arishika missing his smile widens, already excited. "More fun for me than you it seems."

Having reached him I take a seat in small stable chair next to his table. We sit there a moment looking out at the city. It is a gray place, especially this far into the slums. Broken stores and gang violence are common place. Was common place, I suppose as I observe the empty streets. Akatsuki rules this section of town; violence only happens now when we want it to. Men and families still live here I am told. I have not personally seen them, not since the first year of our founding.

Out here, in our Akatsuki cloaks, we are known. Not by our names of course or even our faces really; just the deep red clouds. These symbols of power must keep what few live here hiding in their homes. The bloodshed and rapid territorial growth Akatsuki has shown this city have earned our little group quite the reputation. We are the judge and jury both—bullets in the hand of our supposed God.

Years of operation and yet the police are baffled concerning Akatsuki. Perhaps fear keeps them from wandering into this section of town. Akatsuki may be few but Pein has ensured that those who happen to know us are to remain silent. Unless of course, they wish a painful death.

Out of the corner of my eye I watch the ash from Kisame's cigar flutter to the ground. For a man who loves to kill and destroy Kisame is a relaxed individual. In the years I have known him he has yet to explode or react in emotion, regardless of the situation. I have relied upon this ability of his on numerous missions and today I again, trust him to react as predicted.

"Kisame," I announce simply, "I need you to die."

Beside me Kisame laughs. "Do you now Mr. Itachi? And why would you need me to do that?"

"Because," I say slowly. "Pein is only the bait and I will need you to help me kill the bigger fish. For that, I need you to die."

He takes a long drag of his cigar, smoke bellowing out between his lips. "I assume you have a plan for this?"

"When do I not?"

Kisame chuckles, cigar shaking in-between his lips. "Good point. Okay, Mr. Itachi. I trust you. Just tell me what to do."

I slip my hand into a pocket of my cloak to retrieve a small notecard and a copied portion of the museum's layout. Silently I hold it out for him to take.

He takes the paper and looks it over before beginning to tear it up. "By the way," he says offhanded. "How is little Sasuke doing?"

"He is well. Behaving strangely lately however. Avoiding me and hiding things. I have not seen such actions from him since before puberty. Something is going on with him but no matter, it will be dealt with."

Evidence disposed of he stands. Dropping his cigar onto the dirty concrete Kisame drops his black boot atop it, grinding the ashes into the blacken cement. His eyes still watching the repetitive motion of his foot he braves another opinion. "And that Mr. Itachi, is why I don't want to be on your bad side." With a rueful shake of his head he abandons the now demolished cigar. Bending down he picks up his tommy gun, taking a few moments to secure the gun under his cloak.

"You give me too much credit Kisame." I too rise, content to move on with the night.

"I sincerely doubt that Mr. Itachi. As long as you have little Sasuke I doubt God himself could kill you."

I look at him, our eyes meeting for a moment. He sincerely believes what he has said to me. Where his confidence stemmed from is unknown to me. I am not all powerful. My flaws are real, my inadequacies evident in my very presence this night. If I was as perfect as those around me seem to believe I would have had no need for Pein all those years ago. I would have figured a way out this mess before now. Before Sasuke began doubting me.

"For my brother's sake, I sincerely hope you are correct." Perhaps my plan had failed, my blabbering useless. Kisame spoke as if he knew how much Sasuke' safety means to me. I have tried passing him off as a fancy, a toy. Not my heart; my weakness. Perhaps I am overthinking things. I pray I am. "Come, Sasori is waiting."

* * *

Our latest target is a well-known meeting place among the wealthy. As such the building is a grand white bricked structure with two floors and a flat, modern roof. Like many in the city the museum is squished up against other commercial buildings, creating a labyrinth of alleys where unsavory characters such as ourselves can thrive.

We find Sasori in one such alley a building over, hunched over a pile of bottles. As usual Sasori does not bother with greetings. "Pein wants us to be seen. He couldn't care less what we take or destroy. Just catch their attention. Leave a tag or two."

"Our time limit?" Kisame asks.

Sasori lifts up a couple bottles and shakes them. His brown eyes stare at the bubbles forming for a minute before answering. "Ten minutes. Can you manage?"

"Of course," I answer, surprised he is bothering to voice concern. We frequently work within time restrictions; it has never been an issue before. Why does he feel the need to ask me? Perhaps it is meant to be a joke. One can never really tell with Sasori.

He finishes shaking the bottle, quickly placing it in a small pouch at his waist. Sasori rises from his crouched position to stand next to us, already holding several small purple bottles out to both Kisame and myself.

We take them, recognizing the bubbling liquid to be Sasori's metal-eating acid. As it is with all of us in Akatsuki, Sasori's skills are unrivaled in his respective field. Pein would not have allowed someone mediocre to join him. Though like Deidara, Sasori prefers to think of himself as an artist rather than his actual profession: a chemist. I do not understand the need for a title. We are what we are. No name can change that.

"What is the radius for our gas coverage?" I ask, the map up in my mind running through possible routes we could take to accomplish Pein's goal.

"Two blocks. We are to rendezvous in at Kage Summit, third floor room six. Can we start now? I don't want to wait any longer."

Typical Sasori. Now properly prepared we walk the short meter to one of the museums back doors. There are no guards, just cameras. Drawing the gun at my side I take aim at the small black box poking out of one corner before firing. As soon as we see the equipment begin short-circuiting we dash forward to where it fell. Assured the broken camera is no threat we focus on entering the building.

"Kisame, if you would be so kind," I gesture to the locked wooden door in front of us.

Kisame grins. Raising his leg he kicks out, splintering the door with the force of his kick. We watch it collapse, bending over on itself. Another kick removes the door completely, sending it toppling into the building. The alarm breaks out in a blaring repetitive beep around us, accompanied by the screams of confused patrons. Our time is starting.

We enter a hallway in a swift walk. Beside me I hear Kisame draw both of his tommy-guns, resting them butt-end against his thigh as we wait for Sasori to handle the steel door in front of us. There is a soft hiss that informs me of Sasori's chemicals beginning their work. The screaming inside has already reached a high point. We are only a minute into the operation and the fear is already so thick. It will be an easy night.

"Do you need back up?" Kisame asks lightly, giving me a toothy smile before pulling out his festival mask. He slides it onto his face. A blue-skinned shark grins back at me.

I check the 9 mil in my hand, clicking a full magazine into place. "No, I will be fine. Just take care of the general populace. I will handle the policemen." I have placed my own mask on now. It is one of the few things Pein let us decide on. For some reason he felt it was important we picked our own creature to represent. Kisame, a shark. Sasori, a wooden doll. I have taken mine from one of Sasuke's earliest drawings of me: a crow. It seemed fitting.

Sasori steps away from the door revealing the melted handles. "We are in," Sasori announces, pushing the door open to let us move in front of him.

The museum opens before us. From the back entrance we have arrived through, the first exhibit appears to have recently held a small private party. It is hard to tell as most of the patrons have fled the room upon hearing the alarm. Discarded champagne glasses dot the pristine tiled floor. The monotony of the scene broken only by the small, expensively clad woman in front of us. She appears to be busy attempting to stuff a palm sized ruby down her dress.

Her eyes widen, hands stilling their attempt, as they land on Kisame, taking in immediately the tommy-gun held in each hand. With a scream she drops the ruby and runs out toward the main entrance.

Eight minutes left. Sasori calmly walks over to ruby, pocketing it. Before rising again he places several small wooden dolls in the corners of the entryway. They are brown with glassy eyes and a tuft of green hair. I recognize them immediately. They are clever, automated puppets that will leak poisonous gas at a set rate. I do not doubt the timing to be accurate to the typical police response. As I said, Pein does not hire mediocre.

If we wished to be seen we need to increase our movement speed. I do not have to voice my observation as the others break into a run the same moment I do. When not preforming assassinations Sasori is a frequent partner in Kisame and I's assignments. Over the years the three of us have learned to anticipate actions our associates will take. There is no comradery among the Akatsuki members. That does not however mean that we are poor team players.

As we turn the corner and into the next exhibit Sasori jumps in front of me, throwing several little green bottles onto the ground ahead. A gas breaks out in time to catch several policemen as they enter the room. From elsewhere in the museum we hear the coughing of the remainder of the police force. Akatsuki is a notorious, vain organization. If we truly desired to simply accomplish our goals we would not bother trademark cloaks and masks. No, we wanted to be known. Feared.

Satisfied Kisame has this handled I run ahead. I hear the tell-tale echoing of his guns firing behind me. He will be the distraction tonight, drawing the attention Pein desired. Sasori would be looting what art he deemed worth saving, perhaps placing a large red cloud or two somewhere noticeable. He did enjoy showing off.

I have my 9 mil in my hand, under my cloak ready to fire if the need arises. Unlike Kisame however, I do not enjoy killing. It may be necessary at the moment but in the future, when all this ended, I would not miss it. My role this night is simple: ensure an escape route.

The police able to resist the gas have caught up to me. They probably took the northern route here. Four minutes left. I raise my gun, firing before swiftly reaming, firing once more.

I cannot remember the first time I held a gun. It seemed at moments, that I was born holding one. The feeling of a steel butt, the ricochet, the noise—all of it is familiar, easy. Two more policemen, two more shots. I do not kill them. There is no need. When Kisame catches up to me I have confidence in him to not finish the men off. He has worked with me long enough to trust I have handled the situation.

Two minutes. I take a left turn, already beginning the escape route. Sasuke would be so sad if he knew what we were doing to this museum. He treasured art. Perhaps I would pick him up that piece he had been taking about. A surprise gift. He would enjoy that. Knowing Sasori he would have all worth-while art works safely stowed away for later retrieval. I will get one from him later.

Another brave policemen done. One minute.

I finish climbing the stairs leading to the roof. Grabbing the brown vial I received from Sasori earlier I pour the liquid atop the metal handle. Not bothering to wait for the acid to finish doing its job I kick at the door several times before it finally gives, swinging wide.

Thirty seconds. I hear footsteps of both my teammates on the metal stairs assuring me they will join me shortly. Sure enough Kisame has closed the distance and is standing next to me now, his cloak more red than black. "Alrighty, time to go. Sasori is right behind me. He insisted on grabbing this weird mountain face thing."

I give him a swift nod, reassuring him that I have everything under control.

Below us on the streets we see the hazy purple gas of Sasori's bellowing out around the museum. Two blocks Sasori had said. I look north, seeing the pointy peaks of Snow Apartments a mere three blocks from our gas radius. Running over to the left I inspect the board sitting on the rooftop. It would do.

"Kisame, this one."

He is next to me and easily drops it down in-between the museum and the neighboring law firm. In that instant, as he quickly adjusts the board atop the roof, a flash of silver and grey jumps out, knife in hand. The assailant is covered in black combat clothing, his hair, siliver and spiky pokes out from behind a dog faced festival mask. He must realize he is the intended target, for Kisame turns to shoot but stumbles, his gun firing at the ground instead of the man landing atop him.

Sasori has joined us now. He has several rolls of canvas tucked under one arm, the odd sculpture mentioned by Kisame in another. He does not seem bothered by what is transpiring but his eyes are on the scene unfolding in between us.

Kisame groans as the knife sinks into his chest. My hand as already risen to shoot at the assailant, my finger on the trigger. I see the assailant eyes widen from behind the mask as my gun sends a bullet into his shoulder.

My attempt to help does little as I realize the exchange has forced Kisame to lose his balance. Weakened by the wound in his chest his feet stumble with the weight of the man, carrying them both to the edge of the roof. I watch wordlessly as the edge of Kisames big combat boots dips down, sending both backward. It happens instantly. With a cry they both begin a slow tumble down into the purple haze engulfing the alleyways. By this time Sasori has joined me and we watch uncaring as they continue their tumble, vanishing from sight.

"That was unexpected," he says lightly.

"Very."

Not bothering to confirm his death we both finish walking across the plank. Once safely on the other side I kick the wood board down into the alley. Sasori has already began climbing down the emergency staircase of the building when I join him.

On the street around us we hear the coughing and weaving of the policemen. Sasori's gas is a thick green cloud hanging off everything around us. I lead the way, careful to avoid the policemen crawling around the sidewalk. Sasori has not prepared such an extensive gas before. The police may be predominately dirty but next time they will bring masks. For now, they are too busy gasping for air to bother chasing us, assuming they could see in the fog.

Our festival masks however, are well equipped to work with the gas. After all, we could not go about robbing and killing people if we were too busy coughing.

Once outside the gas radius we begin the standard discarding of evidence. The outer shell of our cloaks are unzipped and tossed in a large garbage bin, the masks safely tucked away and hidden under the now normal black raincoat. Sasori's trophies for the night have all been carefully placed in a sports duffle bag now slung over one shoulder.

No one bothers to say anything as we calmly enter the apartment building. We must look remarkably normal. Sasori's red hair a tad unusual for a Japanese man but his youthful features could pass him off as a rebellious teenager. I am not well-known enough to connect my face to my name so it is without incident we arrive at our destination.

Room six on the third floor is emptied as promised. If there had been previous occupants it is impossible to tell. The room is like many others in the city; uncomfortable queen beds in the back looking over the city, reclining leather chairs centered around a polished wood coffee table. An executive suite. Sasori must have picked the room.

Taking the cream recliner I set about dismantling my guns. Sasori has pulled out a black suitcase from under the coffee table and is busy arranging his stolen pieces inside of it.

"May I have one of them?" I ask, catching the sight of a traditional Japanese painting.

He gives me an odd glance but wordlessly hands the painting over. "For you brother?" he asks.

I nod, reaching under the coffee table to retrieve a suitcase of my own. Clicking it open I place the painting in carefully. The guns will go nestled in their foam shapes atop it once cleaned.

"Is that what he does all day? Paint?"

"Somedays. How Sasuke chooses to occupy his time is entirely up to him. If you must know he reads as well. Though painting appears to be his passion."

It is rare for Sasori to inquire about my life. He has been behaving strangely since Deidara's death. He will stare at me at the oddest moments, undeterred when I stare back. Topics he had not previously bothered to bring up will appear in our conversations. Have I done something in particular to provoke his interest? From what I have observed he had not been close to Deidara. In light of that I doubt the man is after revenge. Did he then, wish to make me a part of his collection or is he simply wary, pondering my next move.

Sasori says nothing else and we sit there, content to wait until the sirens have died down. Pein will join us once the fuss of the day has decreased to a handful police cars. The man is well-known, his appearance unmistakable and thus, restricted to when he wanders out of controlled territory. Until he joins us it is a waiting game.

"I suppose we will have to inform Pein of Kisame's disappearance," Sasori says calmly.

"Death," I correct, letting my head fall against the cream recliner I sit in. "I saw where the knife entered. He will not be returning."

There is something in his eyes that speaks of amusement. Sasori always seems to find the oddest things comical.

I open my eyes momentarily to look at him. "Sasori."

He has not moved his gaze from my figure. He continues to stare, waiting patiently for me to continue.

"My brother would like a teacher. I can pay you four hundred thousand yen a session, twice a week. Are you interested?"

Sasori's brown eyes shift as they process the information I have given him. Slowly he sits up from the couch to give me his full attention. "What medium?" he asks.

"Canvas painting."

"I am familiar with it. In light of your brother's…unique situation, I assume you will be present for the lessons?"

"Of course."

"I am surprised you are willing to allow me to see him. Why?"

He does trust me for which I do not blame him. Despite being done in self-defense I have killed his partner. I shrug, hoping to put him at ease. "I love my brother. If I can get it for him, I do. He wants a teacher. I want him to have the best."

Sasori and I sit there for several minutes while he processes the offer. Four hundred thousand wasn't much compared to what we were given for the jobs we do for Pein but it is extra money. Unlike myself I know Sasori does not have a day job. Most of the Akatsuki's don't. Unfortunately for myself Pein requires certain legal angles I get through my profession and thus, requires I be employed. Even though we can afford it I am unable to spend all my time with Sasuke. That will change. Soon, I remind myself. I have to be patient.

There is nowhere to go, the sounds of the investigation still loud and clear outside the window. Sasori will have to answer my question. As a rule the man does not like keeping people waiting. The fact that he is still mulling my offer over adds to his recent uncharacteristic behavior. Something has peaked his interest. The question remains; is it myself or Sasuke?

"Five hundred thousand, three hours. Evenings Monday and Thursday," Sasori says finally, his eyes not once leaving my own. Once he sees my nod he continues with what I assume are his conditions. "I will meet you at Peins' office. Do not keep me waiting, you know how much I dislike such behavior. I will not go blindfolded Itachi." His lips twitch into a smile. "Are you willing to show me where you keep your precious doll?"

I do not particularly like Sasori nor do I like what he chooses to do with things he finds beautiful. This, no matter how unpleasant, is unfortunately necessary. All of it is necessary. All for Sasuke. I return Sasori's intense gaze with one of my own.

"I would not have asked if I wasn't."

* * *

Sasuke was indeed, delighted with the painting I gave to him. The boy was grinning the rest of the night and the first time in a solid week he ignored his paints in favor of pestering me for my time. It was pleasant to receive his attention once again. It was selfish of myself but I chose to withhold the news of his lesson until today, knowing the announcement would prolong the attention.

"I got you a teacher Sasuke,"

Sasuke is standing in front of the stove working on our breakfast when he hears my words. With a start the thin salt shaker in his hands slips out into the pan of eggs as his hands open in shock. Expressive black eyes widen and the biggest smile I have seen in months appears on this face, threatening to tear his face apart with the energy of his happiness.

"Seriously? No way!"

Breakfast forgotten he sprints over to hover across the table am sitting at. With far more force than needed he thrusts his hands on top it. "When? Who?" he demands. He does not bother to ask where. The idea of leaving the house has long since been drilled out of him.

"Tonight, roughly five o'clock. His name is Sasori. I trust you to treat him properly."

Sasuke nods several times before throwing his arms around my neck. I feel his nose nuzzle into my suit jacket. Gentle and soft spikes of his hair brush against the side of my face. Inhaling deeply I let my hands thread themselves into his hair. "I am glad you are excited Sasuke."

I love the scent of him. Lifting the hand not committed to his hair I gently place it under his chin. With a gentle tug I pull him into a kiss, relishing the feel of his lips atop mine. I can feel the heat of him as he moves around to climb onto my lap. Teasingly his hands move down my back, settling finally atop my hips.

"Sasuke, I have work," I remind him as I feel his hands slide underneath my shirt.

In between kisses against my neck he manages to speak. "Itachi," a kiss against my Adam's apple. "You started it." His lips began travelling down my collarbone. "Besides," he looks up at me, those beautiful eyes alight with the mischief I so closely associate with my little brother. "I know you are your own boss. You can go to work late today."

I find myself shaking my head softly, the laugh I knew has been threatening to come loose breaking out in chuckles. "I see. Are you my employer then?" I ask teasingly.

Sasuke grins as he begins undoing the buttons on my silver shirt. "I can be." He reaches to pull off his own t-shirt, discarding it to the floor beside my chair. "Besides, you know having sex with me is much better than going to work."

I let my eyes appreciate the view of him. Out of concern for his safety I have been teaching my brother martial arts for the last eight years. Though presently we spar only a few times a week he has kept the practice up on his own time. It showed in the build of his abs and his arms. He is beautiful; perfection. There is no hesitancy to his actions, no sin marring his pure intentions. If someone else were to find him, see him in all his innocent glory they will surely corrupt him. He cannot leave. I must make sure of it.

"You have convinced me. The office will have to wait." I let my hands trail along the muscles of his stomach up towards his face. Beneath my hands I feel him shiver. A sense of possession grips me as I pull him into another deep kiss. No one else has touched him. I am the person he wakes thinking of and the man he goes to bed thinking about. I am his every thought—his every emotion. I am behind his every decision. I am everything to Sasuke.

As we move to the couch in his studio I wonder if he knows that as he exists for me, I exist for him. He is everything I see. He always will be.

_After all, isn't that what makes a weakness?_

* * *

I hope you enjoyed reading it. The chapters keep getting longer...  
Comments and kudo's are a writers bread and butter. The more we are fed, the more we write!


	8. A Scorpion Leaves His Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to my beta Coffeepills! She is a super amazing beta. I will be updating every other Saturday until further notice.
> 
> Sasori was/is really hard for to capture as I felt he didn't get enough screen time to really develop his character. I watched what footage of him I found and did my best. I had forgotten how pretty he is! Anyways, here is another chapter.

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**CHAPTER EIGHT:**   **A SCORPION LEAVES HIS MARK**

I am not a fool. When Itachi asked me to mentor his brother I knew there was another angle. I am not currently aware of what it is but I do not doubt its existence. I may not know him very well but during the times we have worked together I have gathered Itachi to be a very meticulous man. If he did something it was for a reason. Despite knowing this I agreed. It wasn't for the money Itachi was offering. No, I accepted his offer out of something far more worth my time: curiosity.

Why would he risk exposing his favorite doll? Was it as he said, for the boys' whims and interest? I found that doubtful. The brothers fascinated me and I wished to see more. This seemed the easiest way.

When Itachi arrived on Monday evening I was sitting on the concrete floor legs crossed, patiently waiting. The rundown building Pein had decided to use for his base of operations was ordinary in all that mattered. Cracks and worn old signs leaned up against the exterior wall spoke of poverty; keeping most from deciding to investigate. If someone felt the need to enter, only a few decaying couches and chairs occasionally filled with our members would meet their inspection. All important documents and equipment was located safety away in hidden alcoves of the building. The members guns and other weapons were general kept out of sight, making an appearance only just before a job. Our little hideout was not in a well-known area of town but close enough to the heart of the city policemen might still care to disrupt any violence they heard.

Pein himself did not live here and neither did any of the other members. We have been known to spend an afternoon or even evening in the hideout but never sleep. Good intentions and trust does not extend outside an assignment. As Itachi may have proved the other day, sometimes not even then. I had my suspcions about Kisame's death but without true proof I could do little; Itachi was the golden child of Akatsuki after all. 

I watched as Itachi pulled the steel door open, light falling in from behind to illuminate his silhouette. The bell-shaped Akatsuki cloak I have grown accustom to seeing on him was absent, leaving in its wake an ordinary, though expensive, black suit and red tie. The black raincoat he wore over both worked wonderfully to hide the guns I knew he would be carrying. Despite being more physically attractive than most he appeared almost ordinary dressed as he was. What a laughable thought—Itachi, ordinary. The man would never be average no matter how hard he attempted to appear so.

I was still smiling from the thought of it all when he walked into the room. He stood for a moment, giving me time to rise from my place on the floor. Habitually I casually bring my hands out in front of me, showing silently that I am unarmed. It would not due to make the man believe I was set out to kill him. If I wished to see it happen I would act on it but not now. I admit my curiosity to find out where he kept his brother was bursting, suppressing all other intentions.

"Shall we go then?" I asked.

Itachi did not answer me, instead reaching into his pocket to withdraw a small slip of paper. He held the note out to me. "Sasuke knows nothing of the modern world. Technology such as cellphones or even the particulars of government are irrelevant to his happiness. Do not speak of anything except related matters, including modern art."

I don't think I have heard the man speak so much in one stretch before. Clearly, this was going to be as entertaining as I had first assumed. I took the paper and silently committed the names to memory. Itachi has been comprehensive. The listed artists all predated modern methods of composing art. How well had he sheltered the boy? How thoroughly had he managed to manipulate his brothers' knowledge? I couldn't wait to find out.

"Of course. The money?" I asked.

Itachi reached into his other pocket and pulled out a Ziploc bag of cash. He handed it to me before turning and opening the door again.

"Sasuke is waiting," he said simply, holding the door open for me.

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The house I followed Itachi to did not give the impression it was occupied. That was the intent I was sure. My eyes flicked up along the rim of the roof. Cameras cleverly hidden within the broken rain gutter assured me of my first assumption; this building was built like a prison. The decaying state merely a façade.

Itachi walked to a rusted steel door where I noticed with clear amusement he had several locks built into it. It would be a double lock; a key required for both sides of the door. Yes, I had been right in my impressions of them both. Itachi had made sure the cage he kept his brother in would be very effective to keep the boy inside and everyone else out. But how well would it hold out against someone determined to get in? I doubted anyone had tried. Yet.

For now that cage was secure, the prize contained. Itachi kept him there. An exclusive doll for the Uchiha alone to play with and see. What must the child think? What had Itachi told him about the outside world? Was he content to stay there or did he wish to leave? If he had been there since childhood…

Had he ever changed?

I had to know. I felt nothing of Deidara's disdain rather I found myself fueled with the fascination that Itachi might have been able to achieve true living beauty in a human form. I needed confirmation. Thus, when Itachi approached me with the offer I could not help but agree.

The excitement I rarely felt as of late burned within me. Anxious I followed inside after him. It was as if Itachi had built a separate building within the dingy garage. The cage was beautiful. Top quality in everything I could see. From where I stood in the small tiled entryway I could see a kitchen, complete with a table and chairs, to the left of me.

The right half of the room was entirely devoted to what I assumed, was his brother’s art studio. The floor was done in the same tile as the rectangle I stood in. Four wooden easels were set up in various points around the room. Paintings were hung along the wood paneled walls or on the floor resting up against the wall. Itachi had been correct in assuming the boy did little else but paint. The room was filled with his work.

The sound of bare feet hitting the polished hardwood broke me from my inspection. The door in the back sprung open, revealing a teenager I could only assume was Sasuke. He resembled his brother closely, differing only in having a deeper shade of black hair and a pair of wide expressive eyes.

"Big brother you are back!"

He did not attempt to slow his dash before throwing his arms around his brother's neck. Itachi in turn hugged him closely. I watched with fascination as the hollow man I worked with took on a human appearance. I had been right, I thought with growing excitement. These two were as interesting as I had always believed.

After gently kissing his brother on the forehead Itachi pulled away to gesture to where I stood by the door.

"This is Sasori. He will be teaching you."

Sasuke fell into a waist deep bow, fluid and smooth. Itachi must have been teaching him some style of martial art, judging by the grace in which he moved. He lifted up his head to smile wide at me. The sight of a face so similar to Itachi showing such innocence and expression…I found myself smiling in turn, though for a far different reason I was sure than Sasuke's own. He clearly was excited to simply be speaking with another person. I on the other hand, was finding myself far too amused to contain a simple smile.

Was I the first to see him aside from Itachi? The second or third? The question played around in my head as I was directed to the easels set up in the room around me. I would have to find out. As for the paintings themselves I found myself impressed. The child clearly had talent. It was still raw and unrefined but considering his complete lack of formal training it was to be expected.

"So many of Itachi…" I mused aloud, catching sight of the strong trend. My eyes flickered to where the man stood against the far wall, next to a large red couch. His arms were crossed, his eye's watching my every movement. I noticed with enjoyment he still wore the long raincoat he had arrived in. I had little doubt it was to keep Sasuke from seeing the pistol I was sure he was carrying.

It was comically really. He had invited me here but he clearly did not trust me at all. Then again, I had not expected him to. People such as us did not truly trust. Rather the comedy came in his expectation of me. Did he think I would take advantage of the opportunity presented to me? He knew of my art; of the people I have preserved forever in porcelain. He must know I desired him for my collection and by extension, his brother as well.

Yet he knew my skills; there was little I could do upon such short notice. Taking Itachi down would not be a simple matter and certainly not done without a great deal of preparation beforehand. My skills were not as…flexible as Itachi's were. He knew that as well as I did. Itachi had no need to worry as much as he was.

Besides, I knew the risk when I agreed to this amusing front. In our little circle of Akatsuki members there were talents we each possessed and jobs suited for them. Did Itachi really believe that I would doubt the surety of my death, my first time here in his home? I knew what he was capable of. He was after all, the marksmen of our little group. If I attempted anything he felt unsafe I knew where I would end up. No, when or if I took them down it would not be here where he held the advantage.

"And that Sasuke, is how you apply the layers for the effect you asked about."

Perhaps I would add them to my collection, perhaps not. I was content for now to learn more about this little doll Itachi was so protective of. I watched Sasuke duplicate my technique, flawless at first attempt. Watched his delicate fingers carefully holding the brush at the right angle. He was certainly beautiful. His skin flawless, his body toned and taken care of. A true living doll, dancing to Itachi's strings.

What must have it been like, controlling a life such as Itachi had? Judging by the subject of Sasuke's paintings the man has been successful in securing his place within the boys' life. He lived and breathed Itachi. He seemed happy in this cage his brother built for him. Sasuke kept smiling over at his brother, gratitude clear in his eyes. Had it always been that way? Itachi was his sole influence, controlling nearly everything about the child. Would Sasuke stay that way? Eternally focused only on his brother, on their life?

I found that doubtful. Few things are eternal. Not even the sun or the earth below us are eternal. In time, they will change and eventually die, fading into nothing. Something that is eternal never changes. It thrives and exists in a state of perpetuity. That, is beautiful—that is art.

People are not stagnant. When alive they change and shift, losing focus on things they once felt were so important. Alive, those we love leave us in the end. Nothing, including love, can live for forever. Though art was my passion, I was a chemist by trade. Using myself as a subject I prolonged my aging process by years. Still, I knew I would die.

Those I created into art stay for eternity. They will never change, never leave. Did Itachi believe that this boy would love him forever? Would he stay the innocent child Itachi had worked so hard to maintain? Did the eldest Uchiha truly believe that even if presented with an opportunity to leave that Sasuke would stay?

Deidara had spent his time wasted and fruitless, existing only in the moment in which he lived. I was not saddened by his death in the least. It was a relief to not have to listen to his clamoring anymore. Though not missed, his death did come as a surprise. I suppose I had never expected Deidara to try and kill him. People were strange.

What would it take, I wondered, to get Itachi to kill me? Where did the boundaries lie?

"There you have it. I think we are ready to move on," I said softly, my hand rising to gently push Sasuke's hand away from the canvas. The boy blushed quickly and pulled his hand away, as if burnt. Surprise widened his eyes and a short intake of breath from his lips, his face predominated in red. He clearly had not been touched by many people.

I heard the soft click I knew signaled a gun being removed from its holster. My smile returned at the sound. So it was a no touch rule then? It was difficult to not laugh. Oh Itachi was turning out to be predictable. So very, very predictable. I took several steps back, my hands rising to either side of my head. I heard another click, assuring me that I would not die at this moment.

Pushing himself off the wall Itachi walked over to us. As soon as he neared his brother his hands reached out to wrap themselves around Sasuke. Slow and soft he effortlessly took the brush from the boy’s fingers. Itachi stood there, staring at me his chin resting atop Sasuke’s head, eyes burning with something akin to reprimand, which surprisingly enough did not seem directed only at me. 

Sasuke rested against his chest with no shame, gratefulness now evident. Had I shaken him up that much with my touch? Or did it relate to the now tight grip Itachi had on his body? The boy if uncomfortable by now did not switch his eyes from the canvas until his brother's voice rose.

"Sasuke," Itachi said slowly. The boy tilted his head in an attempt to look at his brother clearly confused by the prompt. "Would you go retrieve the documents I left on our desk? I have something to show your teacher."

An excuse clearly. I smiled at Sasuke for the sake of appearance. I was still curious, more so after Itachi's switch of plans, or what appeared to be a switch. He wore a sore expression and I knew that he too, recognized the reason for such a request. Still, he silently moved out of Itachi's arms and obediently walked to the brown door at the end of the studio.

Itachi and I stared at each other until we heard his footsteps ascending the staircase. Would I die now? The uncertainty sent a thrill up my body. This was fun. I felt alive for the first time in decades.

"Sasori," he said simply before walking to a small pile of canvases to the left. He ruffled through them for a moment before pulling one out and bringing it to me. It was one of the larger pieces the boy was working on.

Predominantly yellow it depicted a playful fox. Red and orange was used as well with just a hint of blue. It was a well done piece but clearly from a different inspiration than the rest. The eyes gave it away; big and an impressive, piercing blue. They spoke of power and confidence.

“It’s a fox,” I stated simply.

I enjoyed the short flash of annoyance that crossed Itachi’s dark eyes. He wanted more of an explanation of course. Repressing the laughter that tickled my throat I fell into more of an explanation. “A fox Itachi. A clever, mischievous animal known for its pranks and ability to deceive others. They appear often in folklore.” I gestured with a hand to the surrounding room. “If you feed him the same era of books that you do artists, Sasuke likely chose this creature for a reason. It represents an individual.”

“You are implying he met someone.”

I shrugged, happy to leave Itachi with more questions than answers. It was entertaining to watch his reactions. They were not as obvious as his brothers but the emotions were there none the less. Itachi was not nearly as dead inside as he pretended to be.

“Look at his choice of color,” I prompted. “They are cheerful tones. This person makes your brother happy, excited. Evidently happy enough he is scared of telling you. He doesn’t want you to ruin his fun.”

He had not vocalized the information of Sasuke’s attempts to hide the painting but considering how Itachi had sent the boy off before retrieving the painting, I had little doubt what I said was true. Itachi stared at the painting, attempting I was sure to acquire the same information I had given him. It was obvious, if he knew how to look for it. Which I doubted. If he could have I would not be here tonight.

To bring me here, risk my learning and possible retelling location of his home, Itachi must be truly unsettled by this odd deviant in Sasuke’s art. He had reason to be. The fox depicted was in mid-jump, a playful smile on his canine face. It was a lighthearted picture while most of Sasuke's depicted the loneliness and monotony he must have felt growing up like he had. Secluded, sheltered, his only company his brother.

I had learned a great deal about the boy by observing his painting. Sasuke as a general rule favored blues. His subjects were either a faceless, formless child or Itachi himself. Clearly the boy believed he was no one without his brother. Whether it was a subconscious or conscious belief I was unsure of.

His paintings of Itachi were done either in a soft, gentle tones of blue and gray or harsh red and black. Suppressed emotions had generated the latter half, of that I had little doubt. Sasuke did not appear to have any will to defy his brother. And yet he had attempted to keep this picture a secret from his brother. Was it the effect of the individual Sasuke was representing? Would this fox be enough to draw those suppressed emotions to the surface?

Perhaps all that was needed were a handful of carefully placed words. “Sasuke himself may not know all that I have told you. You have done an excellent job isolating him, forcing him to see only you. I assume I am not the first person he has seen aside from yourself?"

Itachi said nothing.

"I thought so. He was far too comfortable about my coming here. I doubt I am the second even. Still, he has met someone somehow. Being denied other human contact I imagine that talking to someone outside of your knowledge, thus making it entirely new and devoid any trace of your presence, would be the only occurrence to change his paintings, his subconscious, so much."

This clearly bothered Itachi. He just stood there staring at the painting. Suddenly, he spoke, the words seeming to ring out in the quiet of the room. Had I been sensitive to temperature changes I could swear it had dropped just as his mood had.

"You have seen us together, you know what he means to me Sasori. You know as well, what I will do to protect this bond. How rare and precious it is to have someone you love. After all, you have not ever felt such a connection have you?"

I was not given the chance to respond. The clear thudding echo of Sasuke's feet atop the staircase announced his return. With quick precision Itachi returned the painting to where he had found it. The canvases once more resting as if never touched.

What was Itachi attempting to convey to me? Was he provoking me? Though invited did my presence here cause more of an emotional stir than what he had predicted? He knew me well enough, knew that I did not return home to anyone. No one aside from Pein and himself had someone to love or be taken care of by. Connections such as that were a weakness, albeit an interesting one for my purposes.

I did my best to remember that, forcing away the doubt and desire such thoughts caused when I attempted to inspect my own life. I was perfectly fine where I was at. I needed nothing.

When Sasuke opened the door with a small wad of papers in his hand Itachi was seated on the couch, legs crossed comfortable looking for all the world that he hadn't moved for some time. Did he truly think his brother would buy that? He seemed to be underestimating the child’s intelligence.

Sasuke gave both of us a rueful look before handing the papers to his brother. "Were you threatening him big brother?" he asked, not sounding all together displeased.

"Of course not, we simply went over the boundaries of his position."

Sasuke rolled his eyes dramatically. "He just touched my hand big brother. It was hardly anything to be concerned over."  He said it confidently but his hand shook as he spoke. Was the declaration more for himself then?

Even if was simply for show, I find it odd for Sasuke to vocalize defiance. I had assumed it would take longer for the effects the fox had on him to appear. Sasuke was expanding his world—how I was unaware—but it was expanding outside of Itachi none the less. That expanse would bring about a sense of independence and thus, a challenge to the boundaries and authorities set in his life. Defiance was naturally, just surprising in its swift appearance. This fox was not to be underestimated.

He turned his head towards me, smile returning to his pretty face. "Can you show me how to do a cloud? I've been practicing for weeks but haven't been able to get it down right." 

I returned his smile. "Of course. Which canvas would you like to start on? Perhaps one of these?" I needed answers. How far did the defiance run? I walked purposely over to the stack of paintings Itachi had looked through earlier. I could barely contain my amusement as I watched Itachi twitch, most likely ready to spring at me but refraining to do so, deciding instead to stare at me.

He did not approve where I was taking this of course that much was evident, but I could not restrain myself. I wanted to see with my very own eyes how much of a stir this new happening had caused in Sasuke. Itachi could hardly protest however; that would ruin the secret. And where would the fun be in that? As if on cue, Sasuke's fingers twitched, and I noticed his discreet attempt to restrain them with his other hand. He knew where I was headed with this; they both did.

Being careful to look at each painting as if deciding, I shuffled them about until I found the painting with that delightful fox on it. "Sasuke, what is this?" I asked innocently, holding the canvas up so he could see which one I was referring to.

His reaction was priceless. Deep black eyes shifted to glance at his brother then back to the canvas then finally to me; his hands clenching and unclenching with each glance, there was no point in holding the display of emotion back. Long gone was his confident cheeky and challenging attitude towards his brother from not a moment ago.

Rather, he looked almost afraid, the dark pupils of his eyes constricting. What did he expect to happen?  He withheld information from Itachi, purposely hiding the painting with the fox on it. Naturally Itachi would be displeased. After all, his elder brother had trusted him and that confidence had been broken. Repercussions were inevitable. He must know that.

To his credit Sasuke looked regretful. I would go as far as to claim the child was feeling remorse. Would that be enough? I found myself more intrigued to see how this secret affected Itachi than the boy. He controlled everything about Sasuke. How must the puppet master feel; the puppet moving on his own in secret?

"It is very different than the others you have shown me. You favored a lighter color scheme and quick fast strokes. I am very curious. What was your inspiration? Does the fox represent a person or an idea? Perhaps both?" I assaulted him with my questions, leaving him no choice but to answer.

Sasuke stood there shifting from one foot to the other before, looking every bit as remorseful and guilt ridden as I suspected him to be feeling. In a sudden swing of mood, he stopped all together turning swiftly to face his brother, his face suddenly tight in anger.

"You!" he accused, catching on quicker than I had expected him to. "You didn't bring him to help me big brother. Master Sasori is here to snoop."

Itachi simply sat there, his face unreadable again. "You are jumping to conclusions little brother. Why would I even have the need to do such a thing?"

Why indeed.

"Why? Because you are controlling and paranoid!" He threw his hands up in the air with the force of his frustration. “Despite what you think Itachi, not everyone is out to get me.”

"So you did meet someone. How?"

The single word question cut Sasuke's rant short, leaving no room for denial; the fox was out of the box. By what little I had seen, I thought that would be the end of Sasuke's defiance and he would subdue, as was expected but he surprised even me. Patience lost Sasuke growled in anger, his fist flying out in a very impressive attempt to hit his brother. Where had this come from? The boy seemed to jump between emotions at the drop of a hat.

Itachi shifted on the couch, sliding out of Sasuke’s reach. "Sasuke, there is no reason to get upset." Before his brother had an opportunity to launch another attack Itachi diligently grabbed his wrist, twisting it around to his back, pulling them together in the process. The action moved them both in my direction, allowing me a clear view of Sasuke. "I did not ask Sasori to  _snoop_ as you so eloquently put it." Itachi was talking next to his ear. Loud enough I could make out the words, clearly a courtesy extended for my benefit.

"Sasuke, I love you. I am merely concerned for your well-being." Itachi’s lips quirked up into a small smile, a smirk really. He was enjoying himself. I had to wonder, at whose expense; mine or Sasuke’s?

Sasuke twisted in his grip, almost succeeding in pulling away. Frustrated he fumed, eyes narrowing into slits. "If you were that worried you might actually tell me what is going on." The words came out low and hurt; his countenance falling to resemble a hurt child. His shoulder’s slumped as the words fell out, frustration all but leaving to expose a hurt, pained expression.

Itachi remained remarkably calm, considering the situation. Was this the first time Sasuke had doubted him? Was this new for Itachi? I believed it was. The paint on the fox was new, barely a week old. I had little doubt before his fateful encounter the idea of resisting Itachi had not crossed his mind. It was surely an effect this unnamed individual was having on him.

Such little contact and yet here he was, defying his brother. What would happen if they met? Itachi and this fox? Whenever the meeting occurred I knew it would irrevocably change them both. Someone that charismatic was dangerous. Sasuke struck me as temperamental yes, but also loyal to a fault, which could be conflicting at the worst of times. What in particular had the fox done to have caused this?

"Sasuke." Itachi said his name quietly, almost reverently. I found myself once again wondering what had incited this man to lock up his brother like this. Such isolation could not have been caused by simple possessiveness. The pair of them were warped and twisted, their minds seeming to have broken; mending in such a way they could not function independently. 

"I have told you all I can. Don't you trust me?"

I watched in wonder at the effect his words had on the boy. In moments Sasuke's body relaxed, the fight completely leaving him. His shoulders slumped and his head bowed. I could barely see his face in between the cascade of his hair. The glimpse I caught was enough however to see his reaction. Guilt. The child clearly felt ashamed for his outburst; for his lack of trust. It had begun showing moments ago in less notable ways but now it radiated from him.

Itachi manipulated Sasuke so easily. The man was holding his brother lightly now, having released his own hold on Sasuke's arm to gently place his hands on the smaller boy's shoulders. He was still talking in Sasuke's ear, a whisper now, none of which I could hear. It seemed Itachi simply wanted me to witness how easily he fixed my meddling. How polite of him.  

I found myself in almost awe of the performance Itachi was putting on for me. It was amazing to watch him pull and tug his brother along until the boy was reacting exactly as Itachi wanted him to. He must know Sasuke intimately and completely. What would it be like to be able to control another such as Itachi did? Blissful I could imagine. No insecurities or doubt; just perfection. So completely Itachi.

Sasuke turned around to hug his brother, burying his face in the older male's neck. Over the boy's head Itachi caught my eyes. The small tilt of his lips efficiently sending his message: you did exactly what I wanted you to.

I could not contain it anymore, my laugh trickling out of me. I knew Itachi's game. I have played it many times myself. Make use of what you can and when its usefulness is gone, discard it. Even at the start I had suspected this result. Itachi was, after all, a very meticulous man. He did not do anything without a reason and plan. Every assignment we had worked together on, he took the lead; flawlessly executing his already prepared plan.

It made perfect sense. I would not have been shown his beautiful brother—for he was beautiful in all this wicked charade Itachi made him live through—If he had expected me to live long enough to make use of the information.

Itachi had not brought me here to teach Sasuke or to show me how dedicated his brother was to him. He hadn't even brought me here for the painting. No, he had brought me here to die. Dragging the truth of his little problem out into the open was an added bonus but not the true objective. He would need an excuse, a good enough reason to kill me that Pein would let my death slide.

He would be walking a thin line; Pein was not an understanding man. Upon my death, if Itachi claimed self-defense as he rightfully had with Deidara, the chance of Pein believing him would be fifty at best. Yet he could not have me conveniently disappear as Kisame must have. I did not realize the truth of Kisame’s death during the mission or even after. The idea had not occurred to me until I sat there in the hideout waiting for Itachi earlier this evening.

Itachi had a hit list, which became clear to me now. I simply had been promoted to the top with the rise of his little problem. I found myself wondering how he planned to be rid of the others. It would have been enjoyable to watch how he killed them. I did not doubt that he would; Itachi was determined. If a way was not presented then he would make one. That was how Itachi worked. I found myself wondering how he planned to deal with Pein. The man would catch on sooner or later.

I knew as we stood there, his brother held lovingly in his arms, that I would be meeting my end soon. It sat well with me, knowing that I would die at their hand. I have lived a long time, collecting and searching for something. I have watched a great deal of people. None have been quite like Itachi Uchiha.

Through his brother he has achieved something that is perhaps greater than my art. Sasuke may change and grow but he will never forget Itachi. The man has left far too large of an imprint for even time to fade its effects. Eternally, Sasuke would always be Itachi’s.

Itachi was in for a surprise however, if he thought I would just simply let him kill me. No, my body would be no more but I think I will leave him a little present. Perhaps by the end of it, it will become my greatest masterpiece. My very own signature attached to his personal art production, what would Deidara make of that?

It had not taken hate or loyalty for me to become entangled in Itachi’s grand plan. I had walked right in, knowing and willing. Itachi was a true puppet master, pulling and tugging—sometimes gentle, sometimes reproachfully, making his brother into the person he wanted him to be. Sasuke was trapped physically and mentally, knowingly or not that was up to him, and a little foxy character was all it required to lure me in their strings of a web.

Itachi might not see it now that he is deluding himself and basking in the moment of having Sasuke back inside his sick bubble of pretense, but I have seen the seed of change, it has blue eyes and colors as warm as the Sun.

He might never realize the change that is to come, it might never be known to either of the Uchiha. I could care less once dead, for I was sure my death was forthcoming, by their very hands at that. I had feeling it would be Sasuke who attempted my assassination.

Life is made of details, simple yet deep meaningful details. When I was assessing Sasuke's hold on his brush, guiding him to the newly introduced technique, I noticed those barely noticeable lines on his hands. Only a trained eye in the way of dealing death would notice of course, and when I first touched Sasuke, that is all it took for me to confirm my previous assessment. He was trained with his body of course, but additionally to an outstanding skill in knives as well. These long faded lines were originally cuts. Throwing and holding knives training cuts to be exact. 

Even then, with that knowledge at the forefront of my mind, I kept thinking I could leave my mark on them, achieve transcendence. For there is no more beautiful and difficult question on earth than transcending time. No matter how hard I tried to rid myself of all things human I could not separate my heart from my body. Perhaps in the end, that was my weakness.

_Deep down, I just wanted to have someone for myself._


	9. The Crow Sends a Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains graphic violence. Be aware!! If you do not like reading about people being killed skip to the page break. You will miss most of the chapter but sorry, it is kinda a big part of the story. You have been warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for patience and as always, for the kudos and comments that truly are the only reason I will finish this story.
> 
> Chapter was beta'ed by the awesome Coffeepills. Without the wonderful ideas and suggested sentences, this story would be a lot worse.

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**CHAPTER NINE: THE CROW SENDS A MESSAGE**

 

Sasuke and I watched Sasori laugh, his body doubling over with the force of his amusement. It was a spontaneous laughter seeming to come from no obvious source of amusement. Sasuke stood there in my arms, his body tense at the sudden shift of mood in his teacher. It was sudden but I had a good idea of where the source for it had come from. The puppet master had always been an intelligent man, he had figured my intentions out I was sure. Sasori had put together enough pieces of my little puzzle which evidently, caused him to find the situation comical. The next half hour would determine much.

As his laughter died down Sasori eased back into a relaxed posture. He gently picked up the color palette Sasuke had been working with. Scooping up three paint bottles he dropped new globs of colors on top the wooden surface before holding it out to his student. "Why don't we continue with the lesson?" Sasori suggested.

Sasuke has calmed considerably, his sudden emotional onslaught faded back to a placid, if not tense, countenance. There was little else for either of us to do. His little show aside this was still a lesson. Understanding this, I reluctantly I allowed him to leave my arms. Sasuke walked slowly at first but perked up as the determination to pretend nothing had happened took hold of him. He did an excellent job of acting as if that he hadn't lost his temper, his shoulders relaxed as he held the brush, eyes fixed on Sasori's face as the man explained techniques I never truly had any interest to grasp. That was Sasuke’s deal, not mine.

They stood in front of the painting brushing across the canvas for some time before Sasori made his play. My arms, folded since Sasuke leave of them, tightened their grip on each other as I watched Sasori's face hover next to Sasuke's ears. His lips began to move, slow and deliberate for my benefit I was sure. He wanted me to know what he said. After all, where was the sense of preforming without an appreciative audience?

"Think about your little Fox Sasuke. How does he make you feel? Does he excite you? Does he make you feel alive and safe?"

How unexpected. He was provoking Sasuke rather than letting the matter fade away. Why try to incite such renewed reaction from him? Was this a power play? A contest to see who can pull the strings with more skill, who can incite a better response? I suppose, with my performance earlier it was. Yet, did he not realize the danger at all? Did he assume Sasuke unable to strike back? That was preposterous, he knew who I was. Was he suicidal perhaps? He must be for Sasori wasn't done and pressed on.

"As safe and alive as with your beloved brother? Safer? Happier? Mr. Fox is waiting Sasuke. You will have to choose. Who will you cut off?"

I watched as Sasuke's eyes widened, his lips opening not in surprise, but in shock. Suddenly repulsed his hands pulled away from Sasori, curled and held protectively against his chest. Sasuke gave him a cautious look, one that was returned with nothing more than a simple smile. Clearly, he was expected to continue the lesson.

My brother seemed reluctant to return, delicate eyebrows furrowed in confusion, eyes awry. Whatever Sasori was playing at Sasuke did not understand it. I did. Sasori’s words were spoken with intent to place seeds of doubt between us. Such action was useless, he couldn't. Had he not seen the bond we shared? Nothing could break it.

My brother was not one to allow himself to be seen as cowardly. His footsteps were slow and uneasy but there were there, slowly creeping along until he was back to his position in front of the wretched fox painting. Directing the boy to the deep hued red and black on the palette in his hand Sasori watched, mouth already twitching into a smile. What was he going to have Sasuke do?

The puppet master placed his hands on top Sasuke's, tightening his hold in response to Sasuke's attempts to pull away from such unexpected contact. My brother jerked frantically in the strong grip, uselessly, pointlessly, as the older man tightened his hold, pulling and directing. I should have acted to intervene but my curiosity held me in place, demanding in its insistence to discover the details of what Sasori was attempting to accomplish.

Aggressive inky black paint splattered across the canvas as Sasori forced the brush atop the soft yellow sun. A jerk to the left and the paint smeared across it, stopping only momentarily before a stronger faster stroke had the brush moving to the right. Sasuke must have been as mesmerized as I was for he made no further attempts to break free of his teachers grasp.

Blue paint was added to the brush. The movements began softer and controlled, shaping the deep black abyss until all traces of the warm inviting sun were gone, leaving in its wake an eerie moon.

The red was next. Long wooden brush lifted slowly and gently, bristling tip ghosting across the surface of the moon, tracing swirling line after another in fleeting strokes. With the third pass of the brush I felt my stomach knot further, twisting and wrenching as the irrefutable symbol of my true profession become clear.

It was softer, almost tangibly fluffy as clouds were often depicted but it was there, the Akatsuki cloud; the chains keeping me in check. It was at that point I felt something in me snap, the anger and frustration from all that had transpired emerging from me in a one deep growl. The sound drew Sasori to turn and lock eyes with me.

With his eyes still on me, holding me in place with their unsaid implications, Sasori leaned toward Sasuke. He began to speak, his voice so quiet and mocking that if I had not instinctively taken several steps in their direction I would have missed it.

"How long will you dance at his tempo Sasuke? Are you content to be your brother's puppet? How could you, when he is so inadequate? Stringed along by one master, yearning for another? Don't you want to cut them, the strings?"

Immobilized by barely contained shock I watched as Sasuke finally tore free from Sasori's hold only to reach to his side, one of the many thin throwing knives I told him to carry tonight, in hand. Sasori had enough time to take a step back before the knife was let loose, lodging itself in Sasori's neck.

Sasuke did not wait for the man to react and already had the larger fighting knife from his pant pocket in hand. There was no pause between blade drawn and movement as he lunged forward, stabbing Sasori in the heart. Sasuke pulled the knife out almost faster than I could watch in a focused effort to slice at the artery running along the older man's wrists. Again and again and again his knife moved to slice line after line onto Sasori’s body.

I could do nothing. I knew that, yet the urge to help him coursed through my body. My hands ached to move, twitching with the fight between reaching out to assist him and knowing I had to stand there and let it happen. I had trained Sasuke, I knew what he could do and frankly, at this point Sasori was already on death's doorstep, no life left as only a scorpion would after losing his sting. The brutality shocked me. That I could not deny. I…would not have thought my sweet and carefully confined brother capable of such violent anger.

Sasori had taken several steps back at this point, initial shock freezing his face into a relaxed and slack composure. All wounds had been inflicted on his torso, leaving the dying man’s non-descriptive t-shirt soaked with blood. In front of the older man Sasuke was speckled, flecked with the blood of his teacher. Sasuke jumped forward, knife flicked into a different angle. Slicing up Sasuke ran the knife along Sasori's arm and shoulder, severing the tendons holding the ligament on.

Despite the blood loss and pain Sasori must have been in, the man uttered no scream or cry, reaching out to grab Sasuke with his good arm, pulling him closer to his face. I had thought him dead but some life must still have been left for his mouth moved, saying something I could not hear. I may have been unable to decipher it but Sasuke had. His already enraged eyes widened to an impossible size, his fists clenching for a moment before bringing the knife to slice again at Sasori, fully cutting the arm free.

The rushing, splurging blood that erupted from the man dyed Sasuke’s hands red. It seemed so odd and unreal, the deep hue of the color such a contrast against the pale skin of my brothers’ arms. The liquid crept down the forearm, drop by drop, inch by inch until I feared my little brother's arms would be nothing but a vivid, consuming red.

Finally dead Sasori fell in a heap to the ground, a small content smile on his face. He had known his death was coming. As I watched him fall the realization that in the end, this was what he was intending to occur, sunk into my heart. He would not have spoken what he had to Sasuke otherwise. At some point between his arrival and the first contact of Sasuke’s knife, he had known the boy would finish him in a rage. What had the puppet master said in his last words? I ached to know. Knowledge was power; insurance that I could and would keep my world, his world, in control. The ache throbbed within me as I stood there, forced to remain still and ignorant; an audience for a performance I was not allowed to join.

With his opponent gone my brother seemed distracted, transfixed at the new textual color on him. Sasori's arm was sprawled as if tossed next to my brother's legs, the hand on it open and relaxed. The remainder of Sasori's body was forgotten, bleeding out across several paintings on the ground.

Sasuke was my own creation, I knew that; Kisame knew it. Sasori had seen it. I knew him intimately and more completely than anyone else. As an infant Sasuke had responded only to myself; indifferent to our father and complacent with our mother. Busy with running the large estate, mother had left the small child largely in my care during our childhood; taking him only when father required me for personal training. 

I had watched him grow and develop, watched the deep love he held get squashed and crushed by all save myself. I dedicated what I could to him but as we grew, so did my training time. In the year before I accepted Akatsuki’s invitation and murdered the family, the time I was allowed to spend with Sasuke had dwindled to mere hours a week. Where once my time had been nearly consumed with solely taking care of the little child I was forced down to mere stolen glances and short sentences. I had loathed it.

The years before the training, before father’s grand plans and Akatsuki, had been a simple blissful life. It had seemed normal at the time; to spend several hours with a gun in my hand, shooting lifeless targets—later people, only to return home wash off the blood and gunpowder then take my little brother in my arms to play simple childish games. I learned later that such a day was not common. Our bond was not common. What we had was irreplaceable. I could not function without my little brother nor he me. That, I told myself, was why this—blood, death, insanity— was necessary.

I had created him. I trained him how to dislocate a man's shoulder, to bedhead someone, to kill with a flick of a wrist alone. I had trained him to protect himself. In truth, the other way around could true as well. Father may have intended me to be his tool but it was for Sasuke that I learned an assassins arts, taking upon me the mantel of death.

My creation he may be but like this; covered in Sasori's blood, nerves frayed, memories playing in front of his eyes—I did not know him. No if I touched him, I was not sure which one of us would end up dead. I had to wait and let him cool down.

So I watched and I imagined at the memories he saw. If they were indeed of the night he had last seen so much blood then I knew them. How could I not? I had created them, as I had created everything that mattered to him. I had killed our family and he had watched. Sat a mere yard away as I slide the blade across our parent's backs. He had been stunned and scared, running out the bedroom door only to inevitably come across the remainder of our clan being murdered. He had been small and innocent, spared the trauma of drastic military training by my perfection. Thus watching such a massacre had affected him deeply.

When he woke up a few days later on the same red couch behind me, he remembered nothing except my name. Survival instincts, I had been told, were what repressed the trauma of the night. I would not have dared kill our family unless I was sure our love would endure that trial. If selective amnesia had not had such high probability I would have found another way out of my father's plan for the both of us. No matter what I was not going to allow him or I to be used as pawns.

Though it worked as intended, the trauma spell I had created, started cracking in little subtle ways as the years went on. Sasuke's moods became somewhat erratic and manic; his mind seeming to remain in a state of childlike simplicity. Everything he could not handle was blocked; leaving only the emotion he gained from the experience. Blood was a trigger for the strongest of his emotions; hemophobia at its root, deeply engrained denial at its core which ultimately translated into a twisted version of an haemophiliac when unleashed.

I saw it on him now; the morbid fascination such a display of blood awoke within him. He couldn't move though; memories freezing him in an almost catatonic state as his brain tried to catch and cover up what had been done. I had moved to the edge of the blood pool, waiting anxiously for the moment I believed I could approach him. Nothing like this had happened before. No one else had tried to force a touch on him before. No one had attempted presenting him with a life changing choice either.

Sasori had.

Now the man lay dead, his arm hacked off next to his body, blood draining out of him from wounds scattered across his chest, arm and neck. Sasuke's knives were spread around him, forgotten insignificant objects compared to the rich, red blood coating his limbs.

I felt my hands twitch as Sasuke finally moved. Slow and deliberate he lifted his arms to eye level, the blood sliding of his fingers to land in heavy drips with the sudden movement. He stared at them only a moment, black eyes widened in wonder. Thoughtful and eerily gentle he placed two fingertips directly atop the foxes face.

What was he doing? What was my brother thinking? I could only guess—my belief that the emotions I labeled him with only strong enough to be considered guesswork. I had never seen him like this before. All of this was new; a blank canvas on the making. Ugly unwanted change brought on by an unpredictable variable; an unknown punk embodied by orange, yellow and blue eyes too brilliant, too noble, to do either of us any good.

In a sudden violent movement that had me stepping forward on instinct, Sasuke drew his fingers from the fox's face to swipe across the animal’s body. As if possessed he twisted his torso to reach his hands in Sasori's blood again. Blood once again coating his fingers he returned to the canvas, sweeping and moving with purpose for several minutes.

I could only watch as the fox, once orange and cheerful was transformed into a red monster with nine tails instead of the one originally represented. Where had I seen such a creature? From one of Sasuke’s old books? Folklore, like Sasori had hinted at?

"Naruto."

My head jerked to Sasuke's eyes as he spoke. What did ramen fish cake had anything to do with what was transpiring?

"Naruto," He repeated.

It hit me then; a name, the Fox's name.

I felt an anger, deep and carnal build up in me as I heard my precious, innocent little brother repeat the name of another man until the repetition of it became a mantra. My body moved on its own as my heart reached it limit, no longer able to stand by and watch the one I love speak so passionately of another. The squishing sound of my feet stepping across the blood an odd, almost complimentary background music to the chanted name.

I stood next to Sasuke, my reason barely able to restrain my body’s possessive urge to touch and claim back what was mine. I had to wait until he noticed me. He was not in a sane mind and likely to lethally lash out at me if I touched him now.

After several long painful minutes his eyes moved to stare at the space I occupied. Black orbs filled with such emotion and life they seemed almost wrong on a body so covered with blood, widened when they landed on me. His mouth hung open, name hanging on his lips. I could feel the anger on me; I knew even in his haze that he must sense it as well. Now was the time, Sasuke had to react as he always has; he had to. I would not know what to do if he didn't.

"Itachi?" He spoke slowly, dragging out the name in confusion. Before I could respond he started to collapse. My arms shot out to catch him around his waist as his legs wobbled underneath him. Relief flooded through me as I felt him relax into my body. His head fell to rest against me, his nose nuzzling into my neck. It was these actions, so habitually and safe, that allowed the tension in me to fade away.

"I'm sorry Itachi," he whispered. "I'm sorry I made you mad. What did I do wrong?"

My arms, loose upon catching him, tightened around his waist until I felt his body pressed reassuring up against my own. He reacted as he always had, guilt ridden and worried. All was well, I could handle this. He was back, my Sasuke had returned to me. "I am not mad Sasuke, simply hurt. You didn't tell me about Naruto," I answered back softly, careful to keep all anger out of my voice. It wouldn't do to agitate him further and besides, my anger was not at my little brother. It so rarely was. How could it? My Sasuke was perfect.

I felt his intake of breath, felt the soft brush of his lips as they opened in surprise. Sasuke had not been aware it seemed, of repeating the name of the mysterious fox. Which meant of course, that this boy had managed to bury himself deeply in Sasuke's subconscious. As much as this angered me his surprise was in my favor. To Sasuke, I was omnipotent. Knowing the mysterious man's name when he had been so careful to hide it, only added weight to Sasuke's ideal of me.

"Yes, my love, I know that you have been speaking to him. Through the bedroom window I believe. With your knives and little pieces of paper."

In my arms he grew stiffer with each word I added to my sentence. He would be scared of course. Scared and unsettled that he had in fact, managed to keep no secrets from me, or even dare doing so. Hopefully it would not push him over. It was my intent for the night to be associated with keeping secrets from me and thus if all worked in my favor, he would not pull such a stunt again. I let the fear build in him until he spoke, confident and calm as I felt the control I never had lost before tonight, finally settle back in my hands.

"I am sorry big brother. I, I was going to tell you. Honest, I was. I was just…scared. I didn't want him to disappear." I opened my mouth to speak but stopped as I felt his hold on me tighten, fingers digging into my jacket. Words came stumbling out of him.

"When we first moved here, people used to live around us Itachi. I remember listening to noises of kids playing in the streets outside. I had to press my ears against the walls but I could hear them and dream of playing with them. But they disappeared one day. Suddenly all the noise was gone and…and I was scared that if I told you about Naruto he would disappear as well."

He was right of course. Families had lived around us at one time. Convenient loss of income had made several move. Those that hadn't were robbed frequently, ensuring their desire to relocate. Sasuke had rightly assigned their disappearance to myself as I had indirectly been the cause. He wouldn't understand how difficult it was to be away from him knowing the potential danger that surrounded him. I couldn't relax with so many variables floating around Sasuke so I had them removed.

If he feared history would repeat itself then this Naruto must live close by. The bedroom window faced a large wooden boarding house, empty for nearly a decade. He must live there. That explained the knives as well. Unconventional means of communication for sure. Well, my Sasuke was certainly creative, no denying that.

"Will Naruto disappear now big brother? Will you kill him?"

I was struck once again with the innocence he spoke with. It was almost comical, certainly morbid, the casual tone my little brother took when speaking about the death of others. Expected, I taught him little in regards to morality, but still so different than those I dealt with outside this home. The contrast only fueled my love for the innocence and simplicity existing inside of Sasuke.

"No," I told him, my desire to affirm within myself that I would not kill this Naruto making my voice firm and terse. At my tone I felt Sasuke flinch in my arms, the action inciting a deep sense of regret within me. "I will not kill him," I added, knowing full well the risk I was taking but feeling compelled to follow through with it. I could not see a way out of it. If I did not give Sasuke this I feared I would lose him more than if I simply eliminated the boy.

Sasuke was strong, he had to be or neither of us would make it out of the next few months. Yet, there existed within him such a delicate fragile core that broke easily and no matter the care taken, never fit back together as complete as before. He lost a bit of sanity every incident. I could not chance him losing more. I had to trust that for Sasuke, I would always matter most. Even more than this fox.

"That does not mean however, that I approve of him. He was the source of inspiration for your painting I assume?"

He said nothing, his face twisting in my shoulder to stare at the mentioned piece artwork. I loathed mentioning it again but if he needed to see it; to associate the horror of the night with displeasing me. Inevitably, with the location of the dripping canvas he could not avoid the lake of drying blood and corpse of his teacher. The sight of them both silenced any further thoughts of strange boys and disappearing neighbors; he had reached his limit. Good, at last we were done with the night.

Swift but gently I scooped him up, holding him against me protectively. Sasuke did not utter protest, instead wrapping both blood stained arms around my neck.

"It is time for you to go to bed," I informed him gently, my lips grazing his forehead in a soft, fleeting kiss. He nodded wearily, content to allow me to carry him up the stairs to our bedroom.

With him cradled in my arms I let myself draw strength from the contact. I could feel his breath warm my neck with each calm exhale, feel his arms relax as I carried him possessively to our bed. He was mine. I had saved him, I had taken care of him through all that had happened. He was mine alone. I would not allow Naruto to steal him away.

Forcing my rising anger down, I carefully opened our bedroom door. Sasuke was tired and needed to sleep. Though it prolonged his rest I insisted on cleaning the blood of him tonight. The sooner I removed all traces of the night’s trauma from him the better.

With a soft command for Sasuke to stay put I retrieved a hand towel from the bathroom. The scene, one of two that night, would replay itself in my head as I sat vigil at his side for hours length. It seemed almost ritualistic as I held his arm one at time, running the wet cloth up his skin wiping away more blood with each swipe until with a final scrub the red was gone; leaving only pale smooth skin I knew by heart.

Sasuke uttered no protest, murmured no agreement as I gently placed kiss after kiss atop his skin until I reclaimed all of my brother that the blood had tainted with its touch. He was not supposed to be the one killed. That was my burden to bear. Even before we left the island my parents had raised us on I knew the effect taking a life could have. It was one reason of many that we left. He didn't need that; not the addiction murder became.

Once started, killing was far harder to stop. It became a high; a power rush that swept over you, knocking breath and reason out of the way to make room for the all empowering sense of superiority taking a life instilled.

No, I needed him to remain the same pure and innocent child that would greet me with a smile and kiss after another day of death and orders. Without him, I feared what would become of my sanity. In our childhood he had been my light, the only influence in my young life unsullied by the blood of others.

Perhaps in the end, it was selfish of me to insist Sasuke become what he has. I had only one thought when I placed him in this home: keep him safe. Too many knew of what had happened out in that little island. Too many knew of us; of me. They would use him until nothing of the sweet, pure child that always loved me remained. To lose that…I could not stomach the idea. I need him far too much to allow such sullying of his pure love to occur. I needed him to be remain as pure and devoted to me as he had been all those years ago. I required that devotion; that singular focused love to make myself face another day.

Yes, it was selfish. But I am not perfect; never claimed to be. That was the label assigned to me by my peers. Even after all the mistakes I have done, all the selfish actions I have taken, they refused to remove it. In death perhaps, they will have stopped believing it.

* * *

 

With Sasuke safe and asleep in our bed I was free to clean up the mess he had made of the studio. Sasori's blood had seeped into several paintings stacked against the easels around the body. They would have to be burned, along with two of the easels themselves. I would replace them later however for now, it was important when he woke the studio looked as it always had. Missing canvases could be explained, blood not likely so.

As for Sasori's corpse, I had a special plan for that. It would need to be moved and knowing this, I glanced back over it in search of any repair work needed done prior to relocation. It seemed I would need to do very little. His body was covered in small knife wounds, his arm hacked off and tossed to the side; the corpse long drained by now. Sasuke had certainly done an excellent job carving up his teacher. It proved at least, the boy was as capable as I had always intended him to be.

With the blood mopped up and the canvases cut and burned in our stove, I had little else to do but wait until it was dark enough to accomplish the little mission I had decided to give myself. Grabbing the book I had been working through last night I settled myself on the floor in-between Sasori's body and the fox painting. I did not attempt to give reasoning for my position. Content for now to simply accept the sense of success Sasori's dead body and the ruined painting gave me.

Several hours passed before I felt the time sufficient to keep pedestrians away. Grabbing a black bag from my office I placed Sasori—severed arm included—inside. His body was already growing stiff with rigamortis making the maneuvering of him more difficult than I would have preferred but soon, I had him over my shoulder and was off; sneaking across the small alley to the fox's den.

My assessment had been accurate; there was not a living soul in the street. Standing in front of the wooden door to Naruto's home I noticed happily that there were no lights on. I wanted my visit to be a surprise. Filled with the glow of being in control I flicked my knife from my belt into my hand. With practiced ease I slide the blade between the door and the frame, pushing the metal in to allow the door to swing open. 

My eyes had enough time to take in the huddled shape of an orange sleeping bag in a far corner before I sprinted in. Though he must have been here for weeks the room contained nothing but the sleeping bag, two duffels and a wall pinned with small pieces of paper; Sasuke's notes.

I resisted the urge to tear them all down and forced myself to focus on the task at hand. With a loud thump I threw the black bag containing Sasori's body down next to the now frantic, moving sleeping bag.

"A warning," I announced, my voice bouncing around the barren room like a bullet.

The boy had managed to untangle himself by now. He was, I decided, definitely a fox. Naruto was Sasuke's age, judging by his size and lingering baby fat, with unkempt blonde hair and tanned skin. Several whisker like scars lined either cheek though rather than taking away from his appearance it only seemed to highlight the pair of piercing blue eyes that stared hatefully at me. I had a strange sense of déjà-vu after seeing his face but it was short-lived, more pressing matter staking presetense in my mind.

"You've got some balls to barge in here like that! Privacy mean anything to you? Wait don’t answer that. You are standing here all ninja like so it obviously mustn't.” His eyes, scrunched from anger, widened as they adjusted to the dark. He must have recognized me for I watched as the muscles of his shoulders and forearms flexed, his body tensing at the sight of my face.

“Uchiha _,_ of course it’s you who shows up. I don’t care why are you are here, that doesn’t matter. What matter is why you are locking _him_ up like that.” He seemed to be growing increasingly frustrated with each word spat out at me. “How could you keep him from experiencing life?!" he demanded, anger almost making his words a yell. He had yet to notice what exactly I dropped next to him and was instantly beyond the point of wondering what I was doing here. He must have had expected it to happen at some point.

Seeing him like this, worked up and so obviously self-righteous _,_ I found myself sure of the fairytale he seemed to believe, the notes lining the wall only further proving my hypothesis. Sasuke was not real to him. Instead, he was but a tragic, beautiful victim suffering from cruel mistreatment; not a person with thoughts and emotions and motives. I did not doubt the boy was simply infatuated with my Sasuke. A proper trapped princess for the daring prince. The irony of it was sickening.

"He, and everyone else around him, needs to be protected," I answered simply, bending down to unzip the bag. In response to my movement Naruto leaned his head toward the uncovered body, orange pajama clad body towering at a hazardous angle for a better view. As soon as the red hair and now pasty white skin of Sasori began to take shape, identifying him as a dead human, the boy swore and jerked, stepping back toward the wall instinctively.

"Is that a dead body?" he demanded, his fear making each syllable quiver.

"Yes, it is. Sasuke killed him today."

His blue eyes widened in horror, more shocked I believe about the killer than being handed a dead body. What would he make of Sasuke if he truly knew the boy? Could he accept him? Truly, completely, accept him? I doubted it. After all; Naruto had set his mind to hating me, most likely blaming me for Sasuke's predicament, and whether he liked it or not, my precious brother was incomplete without me. We were a packaged deal.

I felt my lips quirk, the urge to smile at his ignorance and foolishness almost too much. To save myself the humiliation I spoke again. "You are so quick to place the blame of my brothers…imprisonment that you do not stop to think that perhaps, he is there for more than the first reason given.” I paused in my speech, giving him time to digest my words. “Sasuke's fingerprints are the only ones on this body. Do not attempt to place the blame on me it will not happen. Such action will only result in Sasuke's arrest. Naturally, if you choose to go through with that I will return to kill you."

Against all possible scenarios, Naruto stood up, calmly and surely until he was standing straight and firm, all traces of fear gone. "I am not afraid of you Uchiha. What you are doing—locking him up like that—is cruel and wrong. He may not understand but you do. You need to let him go. Even if people are out to get him he can be protected."

Did he have selective hearing? The hero seemed set on only seeing Sasuke as the princess in need of rescue, not a boy with a mind of his own and beliefs to back it up. "You speak without true understanding of what you demand. Look at the body, look what Sasuke did. Do you think he is safe to be around?” More silent moments given, more opportunities to save himself humiliation when the illusion was shattered.

“As for my Sasuke, he is safe in our home. If he leaves he will be in danger. Your mere presence endangers him." I let the breath I had been unconsciously holding ease out in a sigh. I had to remain calm, had to be in control. I could not afford to let this Naruto see how much his existence bothered me. "As much as it pains me, unfortunately Sasuke has become rather…attached to you.

The pure, honest delight that my words invoked in Naruto sent my stomach knotting together in angry clumps. I refused to believe the boys love for my brother was genuine. He posed a threat to our sanctuary. He couldn't be allowed in, couldn't be allowed the opportunity to become something more.

"Do not presume too much. Sasuke is my brother and I will do whatever it takes for him to remain safe. Continue your little messages but understand this: no matter how attached to you he is, I will not hesitate if you bring danger to him."

He had conviction, I had to give him that. Naruto stared hard and flat at me, undeterred by my words. If anything the narrowing of his eyes as I finished my sentence spoke of anger, not fear. I had hoped showing him Sasori's body would scare him away but it is as Sasori had foreshadowed; this fox had a strength, a presence that demanded almost as much attention as my own. He wasn't intimidated by me or any of my actions thus far.

"Glad I got your permission," he spat the last word out in anger. "But no thanks, I want to meet Sasuke, face to face. Sending paper airplanes through his window isn't the right way to get know each other."

"You will find, Naruto, that there is very little about either my brother or I that will fit inside that right and correct world of yours." I could not contain my emotions any longer. When was the last time I had such difficulty? I was changing, my emotions manifesting themselves far more than they had before. Why? What was causing them?

This once I allowed myself to use them. I found it remarkably easy to bring all the anger and violence such a potential threat to Sasuke brought out in me to show on my face. My lips widened, sliding into something of a sneer. "If you can't accept that then disappear. Sasuke does not need someone who cannot love him for who he is."

The hands at Naruto's waist tightened, clenching together with the same anger that brought a snarl out of the boys' mouth. "Do not underestimate me Uchiha. I know about what you do with him, I have seen you."

It all came back at some point between our less than natural exchanges; I knew him, I had met that blonde, the one that asked about Sasuke's paintings. Such a meaningless detail had somehow during the few weeks between then and now, became such an ever-growing issue. How infuriating.

"Then you know, Mr. Uzumaki what you can never have." Satisfied with the ending of our first exchange, my task done and message delivered, I turned toward the exit. My hand reached the door knob, cold metal giving me strength to add a short, last minute reminder. "Rest assured Fox, underestimating you is something I promise I will not ever do again." The words floated in the air, spoken as an after-thought.

My piece said I left him there like that, standing in the middle of that barren room with Sasori's rotting body. My feet carried me down the walkway toward our home, my heart content. I could handle him, I was sure of it. I have worked too hard to secure this lifestyle to let him trounce through it, wrecking everything. I would not let my irreplaceable brother fall under further sway of the cunning fox. 


	10. A God and an Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is Chapter 10. I haven't updated in a very long time and this chapter is why. Its terrible. The pacing is off and for the life of me I couldn't get it work right. I kept holding onto it trying to fix it. I realized that if I waited until I was satisfied then I wouldn't ever finish Imperfection. So here it is, flawed and insufficient for anything but moving the story forward. Stick with me please. The rest of the story is already written so updates should be more regular. But I have said that before ha ha ha...
> 
> This chapter has two P.O.V's. Some readers have had a hard time telling who is narrating them so for clarification the first is Konan and the second is Pein.

**CHAPTER TEN: A GOD AND HIS ANGEL**

 

**HIS ANGEL**

I have worn many faces over the years. Donning whatever appearance is needed at the time. A face such as mine is rarely noticed, hidden and adjusted to whatever it needs to be to further our goals. His goals. That is why am I here is it not? To help him. He saved us both a long time ago. Pulled our aching, malnourished bodies out of that town. He found us shelter, food, a purpose. A reason to make our bodies get up and scavenge for anything edible. For years we followed him. I will do whatever I can to help our purpose. Without it, I am left wondering why we are even here.

There has been a traitor He says. Someone is selling out the officers of our organization. The rat needed to be found and taken care of. Get Itachi, he will know. He will understand.

The Uchiha is gifted, that is impossible to miss. Every mission he has completed to the letter, following up with a perfect report. He answers every summons without fail. Yet, I am wary of his plans, his motives. He cares nothing for our purpose. How could he? His vision is filled with the toy kept in its box. There is no room for anything else. Still, I go. 

I have not visited Anbu Law before. I had no need. Uchiha has been responsible for handling all of Pein's legal matters. I had no reason to intervene. The building is rectangle, glass front with sandstone and pretty double red doors. Pulling the convertible up to one of the parking posts I turn off the engine, engaging the parking park.

My nails glint gold as I run them over my skirt, enjoying the feel of the satin against my hand. Life can be beautiful if we allow ourselves to see it. The skirt and blouse I wear—blue to match the sobriety of the occasion—is beautiful. The glass glinting in the afternoon sun is beautiful. The pavement, the sky, the people, ignorant and misguided; pure as only those truly ignorant can be, are beautiful.

My eyes catch the watch encircling my wrist. It is time. As I stand and lock the car I feel the eyes of those still in the parking lot follow me inside. With my hair, the same brilliant blue as my skirt, done up, complete with the flowers I craft, It is impossible to pass by unnoticed today. He does not care, I trust. Today is a special day after all and as such, it requires a special appearance. There is no need to hide behind a different face. Not today.

I am recognized the moment I enter the building. The man standing with a group of crying women is the one who catches my face, my flowers, and puts it together. How much he knows I can merely guess. Little, perhaps my status as a special guest, perhaps more. Itachi is such a difficult individual to read.

Either way, the man with the ill-kept silver hair gives me a nod before dismissing himself from the group. He begins down a hallway, my cue to follow. The click of my heels makes a pleasant noise as I am led to an immaculate room at the end. The law firm appears high class and kept to standards Pein would approve of. So very like the Uchiha.

"Itachi will be with you momentary," he informs me, calm and patient. He must know who I am.

I nod, my attention traveling around the room. It is a beautiful office. The light is free to splash in from high windows, mingling with all the books and paintings. A single red sofa takes center stage, positioned carefully to receive the most of the afternoon sun. My hands run along a crease in the arm, trailing along the creased fabric until it leads me to the cushion. I watch my hand imprint itself in the fabric, watch the give. This is a not a sitting room. He spends time here among the books and paintings.

Who paints them I wonder? There are no signatures on any of them. Still, they are beautiful. Flawed, imperfect and beautiful.

"Konan."

My name pulls my attention away from the walls to the one who spoke it. He looks different than I am used to seeing him, armed in suede and technology like he is. Different yet the same. He can change his armor, silk instead of a terror instilling cloak, but he cannot rid himself of the danger. It hangs of his hair, styled to perfection. Off his lips set neutral and calm. It is ingrained in his movements. In the slow controlled steps, he takes toward me. The set of his shoulders, never relaxed always in control. Itachi can try but he will never escape who he is or what he represents.

He is standing in front of me now, one hand on the arm of the couch. His hand flexes against the worn leather as he speaks, his eyes betraying nothing of the tension in his body. "What may I do for you?"

"Pein wishes to speak with you concerning several sensitive matters."

He says nothing further, having regained the control momentary lost. His hands slide in his pockets, shoulders shifting back. "How urgent is his summons?"

"Immediate."

He knows why we have summoned him. Uchiha has never been willfully ignorant. I know little of the life he lived before he came to us—dried blood covering both him and his brother—but I doubt he was ever allowed the opportunity for innocence. Perhaps that is why he so closely covets the toy who knows nothing else.

"I understand." He gestures behind me toward the door leading back into the hallway. "After you."

His words bring a smile to my face. How much does he suspect? All of it? Or only that the sudden deaths of his compatriots have caught our attention. Either way I suppose, he will not go down without a fight. He must know that we too, will not be calmly lead to our death. We are not like the others. 

He follows behind me, his steps controlled to my match the sharp click of my heels against the low carpet. The man who spoke to me earlier meets us at the lobby. Itachi pauses in our exit to speak shortly with him.

"Hatake, I am leaving the office now. Take control of my remaining appointments. You will find all necessary papers in my office." I watch him drop a pair of keys retrieved from his pocket early into the man's hand.

Hatake says little, nodding slowly, his lips pressed down in a frown. Something is not right. Uchiha does not give me a chance to speak my concerns. He has the the door to his firm open for me. Waiting for me to exit, his eyes a predators. They burrow into me as I walk through. He knows what is going to happen.

He out strides me, reaching the car before I can. Is this a race? No. Not a race, a show of bravado. He clicks the door open, holding it there. A gesture I was sure, designed to show me he was not afraid.

He hadn't looked afraid when he was brought to us, eyes flat rocks as he stared, ignoring the sinking boat behind him. He was soaked to the bone from the rain, the too-big trench coat proving insufficient for spring rain. His face was ashen, dried blood freckled across his fine features. He couldn't have been older than fourteen. I knew that yet as I stared at him, into the smooth dull black of his eyes I found myself unable to consider him a child.

I remember it vividly, the wave of awe that swept over me as he spoke, arms cradling his brother against his chest. He was beautiful and surreal—a true angel if I had ever met one. Pein thinks of me as the angel to my god yet I know better. I have seen a true angel. One that came in the mornings earliest hour, dressed in black and blood, cradling his heart in his arms.

Pein, for all his all knowing, does not understand this boy. Perhaps it is because for him, Pein has already lost his important person. He has nothing to hold him down to reality, leaving him only with visions of the future.

My eyes flick over to Itachi. His expression is still the same blank gaze as it always has been. I remember thinking that night, watching him as I do now, that he is a very careful man. Careful and so full of fear he mistakes it for devotion. Someone such as him as no room for a vision created by my God. How could he? When his eyes have been taken up by another. He has room for nothing else.

My mind, occupied with thoughts of the past, wanders about as we finish our drive. Out of Akatsuki, I alone choose to travel by car. So many of our members distrust the automobile. A feeling I find hard to understand. It does what is requested of it, nothing more, nothing less. Why is there need for fear from something so easy to manipulate?

We live uptown pass the center shopping mall and the lake. He purchased the home soon after we became established in the city, choosing to keep up a proper appearance in society. The home is adequate, grand I suppose if one chose to count square footage. Built with white stucco, modern edges and big bay windows, our home sits above a natural forest.

The gravels kicks up around the car as we turn down the bend up the driveway to the home. Few members have seen where He lives. Only Uchiha and Sasori have visited it. The privilege is reserved for the oldest members, the few who have His trust.

A trust that appears to have been broken. Gods do not take lightly to betrayal.

I lead him up the steps of the home, directing openly the room just past the entrance. It is a large dinning hall, complete with lavish paintings and high back chairs. The table is set. Pein himself sits at one end. To His immediate left, a plate and utensil await Itachi. After Itachi has seated himself I join Pein on the right, opposite Itachi.

"What matter requires such urgent attention?"

He is polite, not lifting his fork until Pein have done so. Not eating until He brings the first bite to his mouth. Polite and cautious, two interwoven qualities.

"I am not sure you are aware but I have lost contact with Sasori."

I bring a bite to my lips, watching Pein do the same.

"How unfortunate." Itachi does not bother to stop eating after the response is given, the soft clicking of our utensils the only noise in the room.

"I believe he has fallen prey to an attack."

"Any leads?"

"In fact I do." Pein sets his knife down at the table. The soft placing of his fork echoed around the room, heightened and dramatized as his words send tension into the air. "I have summoned him here tonight."

Itachi smiles then, the smile I knew he must wear for clients. "You must be mistaken. I have done nothing to Sasori or Kisame."

Pein does not take another bite. He looks at him. I listen to the soft echoing tick of the grandfather clock. Does He believe Itachi? Surely not. The timing is far too perfect.

"I believe you."

I…had no expected this. I do not doubt my God but I do not understand him. An accusation would not have been brought about if we did not believe with full confidence that we were correct. Yet, Pein believes him. My God is never wrong.

"However," Pein sets his fork down atop the table. "I would like an explanation for their disappearance. Both have been under your watch when this has occurred. Do you know who is responsible?"

Itachi has not eaten anything more. His utensil sit forgotten across his plate. "I have leads on them."

"You understand Itachi, that a death or kidnapping of one of our own is held in deep regard. Whoever has done this needs to retrieve similar treatment."

Itachi still has not moved.

"I understand. What do you wish for me to do?"

"I would like their assassination carried out by your hand. It seems fitting, as their disappearance occurred on your watch. You said you had leads, did you not?"

When will he move? I know he wont take this. I must be ready if he wishes harm on Pein.

"I understand. Now, if you will excuse me," Itachi stands up. He has not drawn a weapon yet. Why not? I know he carries one on him. He will not take this.

Itachi bows once, then turns, his feet an timed bomb as they walk across the floor.

"Oh, and Itachi?"

Itachi turns his head backwards us.

"I want their heads. As proof."

My hands are sweating, my eyes sharp and focused as I watch Uchiha. This will be it. This will be the moment he attacks.

"I understand." Itachi bows again. He opens the door, shutting it getnly behind him.

I turned towards Pein. "Why would you believe him?"

"He spoke true. He has done nothing to either of them. He knows who has. Now, he must choose. Them, or us."

A soft whistling noise reaches my ears. With a start I jump up, running towards the door Itachi left from. The whistling is stronger here. I throw the doors open, running through them. Behind me the whistling reaches its max then falls silent. I turn around in time to see the room flare up in flame and smoke, the deafening sound of the bomb leaving my ears ringing.

Itachi. I knew he wasn't going down without a fight. I have to get to Pein before Itachi does. The body in the dining room, burning and blistering, is no longer connected to Pein. He has others, no doubt already acting on his wishes. His original, controlling the puppets, is vulnerable. He cannot move when connected. I need to protect him. I will not let anyone harm my God.

 

**HER GOD**

 

Five minuets from the bombs explosion and three of my bodies are dead. How the Uchiha knew where to find them I do not know. I have three left. I cannot afford to lose another. With a shudder I pull the primary connectors off my arm, ending all input received from the corpse.

Death is unpleasant. I do not feel the complete physical sensations of the bodies under my control but enough of the sensory input is received for me to find injuries painful. Itachi will be on the move, hunting for my real body. I have told no one of the puppets I control with my nano-technology but he must know of them to so efficiently kill each one off. He has been with me nearly ten years now. I would not be surprised if he knew how they were controlled as well.

His bullet is proof of his guilt. There is no question now. How unfortunate he has chosen to kill the others. I could have overlooked his questionable priorities if only he had not tried to cut the strings keeping him in line.

With new controls replacing the fried connectors I feel my senses begin to sync with those of another body. My body is buzzing, the muscles and joints aching with each thought, each movement. I open my eyes to the white paneling of a closet. With a kick I knock down the door open. The room around me is barren. Uchiha is not here. Where is he now? I have several other bodies hidden. Has he gone after another?

“Konan?” I call out her name. No response. Flicking the watch at my wrist open I call out again, her number the only synced to this phone. Again I am met with no response. What has happened? She always answers.

I feel the impact of the bullet as it pierces my leg before I notice Itachi. He is at the door, gun drawn, bullets fast and smooth as they fly by me. Where had he come from? Frustration gnaws at my chest. I am above this.

I fall into a roll, dashing into the open doorway. My leg aches but is functional, an advantage of being connected only enough to control. I slam the door shut behind him, latching the lock as I rush out the other side. It will not take long for him to catch up to me. He must have the mansion memorized. Not knowing where he got hold of the blueprints fuels my frustration until it is an inferno in my chest. Itachi must pay for this. I will not stand to be made a fool of.

 The door I exit out of leads to the garden. Ahead of me sprawls a large labyrinth of grass and flowers. The electronics I require to keep my mind connected are located throughout the interior of the maze, hidden among flowers or mingled with the roots of the hedges. Out there, among all of natures creations, I am truly God. Itachi will not get me. Not here. Sprinting I rush ahead to the left. With a sharp pull I tug the hidden door open, disappearing behind it.

I run my hands across the keyboards nestled into the walls. Computer screens flicker to life around me. In here I can see every inch of the labyrinth. Itachi will look for me there and I will find him. This had been my plan from the start. If matters had followed their intended course this trial and execution could have gone much smoother. No matter.

Within a minuete Itachi shows up at the edge of the labyrinth, gun in hand. At least this time I had assumed correctly. These failures, this frustration, eats at me. A god knew everything. This—this unease, was most unbecoming. I need to mislead him. Regain my control.

"You cannot escape Itachi. This time, you calculated wrong." My voice echoes out from inside the labyrinth. Sent through one of the speakers hidden amongst the foliage.

Itachi's reply to my question is not in words but bullets—the small iron pieces shooting through both hedge and speakers to implant itself in a computer screen mere centimeters from my shoulder. How he was able to determine my position and the projectile difference shooting through the wall would cause, leaves me saddened. Such potential wasted. It is unfortunate that one such as he has strayed from the path set before him. He is perfect in all that he, a mortal, can be.

Moving several feet to the right I prepare myself for his next assault. "Is he worth it?" I question softly, trusting the construction of the room to carry my voice to him. This is still a trial. I intend to make Itachi think of his actions. If I move or attack in response, he will know for certain the control room is here. My best bet is still drawing him away.

Again my commentary is met with bullets, this time larger and far more explosive, creating an inch-wide hole the foliage in front of me as they whizz by. Where had he found the weapon? I had been sure he would only carry two, not three, guns. Another shot from that gun and he will be able to see into the room.

"Do you wish to see him safe and protected? Is that why you killed your fellow members? Does he mean that much to you Itachi?"

I restrain my surprise as the door is kicked open. Itachi is suddenly in front of me, small barrel gun pointed at my forehead. His eyes are hard, chiseled stone in his head as he stares into me. "Of course he does." The bullet is let loose, impact sending one of my doubles falling sideways.

He does not pause in his movements, turning immediately to the left, headed I was sure, back into the mansion. Itachi missed, I am still alive. The body I was currently in has blood seeping out from the deep wound in my head. It would die as the others had yet it was still alive right now, not imminently killed as the others had been.

I need to switch yet I couldn't get my mind to move past that perplexing irregularity. Itachi missed. Why? What is causing him such inner conflict to make him miss? I only voiced a handful of questions, none of which were expected to jar him. Draw him away, perhaps question himself, but alter his composure enough to miss?

Ignoring the pain and shaking tremors of my body I force another, last, connection to a double waiting in a closet next to the front door. After opening the door, I bring my fingers to my mouth, whistling loudly. There is only one way out of the house, all windows and doors being sealed shut by the security system awoken by his initial bomb. Itachi will have to leave from here. If my estimate is correct, he will reach this location approximately the same time as my hounds do.

The pounding of large paws hitting the tiled floor, fills the room, intermingling with the sound of heavy, human, pants. Itachi stands at the top of the staircase, a gun in hand. Itachi is still for only a moment before his eye catches mine. His hair, nearly free from the confines of the tie, is bellowing around him. His breath is coming out in deep inhales, his clothes torn where the blades hidden in Konan's origami had made fleeting contact. The cuts are small but they still bleed. They still drain him of much needed energy. This will be our last confrontation.

The hand in my pocket reaches forward, grabbing the remote kept there. There is only one button and as I press it, I cannot keep the anxiousness creeping into me, away. With a loud bang two panels on the wall behind Itachi spring open, allowing the hounds access to their prey. They are large and brown from ear tip to tail, trained to kill and fight until death.

Uchiha has time to shoot one before the other three make it to him. Where he pulls the knife out from, I do not know but it there in his hand, slashing and cutting with expertise at the dogs that dive at him. Two more go down before I have gun at my waist drawn and firing.

The bullets fly through the air, off target, hitting somewhere above Itachi's head. I am no marksmen, relying on the beasts at my command over a gun. The last dog dies but not before he gets Itachi in the leg, ripping muscle and hopefully an artery. I am too far way to tell for certain. The Uchiha, face tight and thin as he endures the pain is the last I see before this body too, is shot in the head.

My body, the one I was born with, is throbbing in agony as the pain receptors send electric shock after electric shock into my body. I am able to tug them off violently before collapsing. I had not anticipated losing so many of my bodies. Or Konan. I had not had time to check on her yet. Using what energy remained I pull myself up onto the large walled keyboard in front of me. A few clicks then the dining room camera flickers to life on the screen. Laying with arms to either side of her head, face pale and ashen is Konan.

When had she died? I had not seen her confrontation with Uchiha. She had been well, leaving the dining room before I. He must have gotten to her during one of my body shifts. She had tried to move, a mess of blood trailing out several feet behind. Her mechanical cranes have all fallen, resting as if funeral flowers atop her chest. She is dead. My angel has died. The hollowness that fills me leaves my body numb and still. I am a god. I have no weakness. I am above love and emotions. I am perfect.

So why does it hurt so much?


	11. The Crow Remembers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter eleven and only three weeks from chapter ten :D I am doing better~ Anywho's this chapter is not beta'd either. Unfortunately my beta has been very busy. So if anyone spots typos please let me know. I try my best but I inevitably miss some.

 

* * *

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: A CROW REMEMBERS**

* * *

My head is a mess. What thoughts I manage to string together are desperate and weak; coated in fear and oiled with apprehension, turning word by word as I limp out of Pein's mansion. Rubber soles provide no traction against the marble and twice I feel my feet skid across the outside steps, sending my injured body sliding down several before I catch myself.

My carelessness only adds further damage to my injuries. I need to tend to my leg. I know this yet fear keeps me moving, keeps the agony and pain at bay as I stumble towards Konan's car. I cannot stop or Pein will find me. Konan is dead, that at least, went as planned. She may be dead but Pein is alive. He will come for me.

I must see Sasuke. He has to be safe. Nothing can harm him, it can't. The sharp pain of my shoulder colliding with a metal door frame shifts my focus back to the present, anchoring my mind as I let my body slide into the driver's seat, blood soaking the leather interior immediately. My vision has begun to blur, something I notice only after my head collides with the mirror. Driving will be an experience I think with humor. Pulling down the wires behind the steering wheel I force them together, jump starting the vehicle. It roars to life and I am off.

Six miles down the road and a sudden spasm in my leg has me grabbing the steering wheel. I don't dare look down. The skin frayed and stretched over bites marks is burning strong enough to remind me that I am not immortal. If I wait much longer to get the wound bandaged up I will inevitably break my promise with Sasuke. That cannot do. I must return alive to him. My good knee holds the steering wheel in place as I tear the sleeve off my jacket. A few more rips and it is enough to tie up my leg. Stitch's will have to wait. It has been nearly eight minutes from when I shot Pein, amiable enough time for him to recover and ready another one of his body doubles.

I am halfway home before I realize I do not remember driving the last few miles. Black edges my vision, my blood seeping out; causing my symptoms no doubt. I pull over to a small section of dirt and rubble, parking the vehicle.

Hopefully, I will be close enough now for Hatake to pick up my signal. I used the code I discussed with him before so he will know to retrieve the tracking device from my office. I just need to stay alive until then. Sasuke is my last thought before my world flickers away and nothing is real anymore.

* * *

_We are seated at the kitchen table. Sasuke is across from me, his fingers taping the wood surface in thought. Somewhere in my head I know that this moment is a memory. He is wearing one of the high collared blue shirts I disliked on him. He had altered the original design to sit cover his neck, a trademark of nearly all his clothes now. Started after I made a few remarks about how beautiful I found that particular part of him._

_Fingers poised purposefully atop the table he stops abruptly, eyes lifting to peek out between his bangs. His lips moody, lifting and falling in the corners. "Itachi," he announces, his voice sad and thoughtful, giving me the emotion his lips hinted at. "What is love?"_

_I pause in my eating. The fish still on my fork. I set it down atop the plate. "What has brought you to wonder at such a thing?"_

_"You leave everyday big brother. Sometimes for several days and I am left here alone. If you love me, why do you keep leaving? Why can't I come with you?"_

_The exasperation at yet another request to leave the home hits me anew, fueled not only by the memory but my own conscious feelings on the matter. Somewhere in the haze I know the memory is simply that; a memory. Yet my emotions mingle and I find it impossible to separate the present from the past._

_"Sasuke I cannot take you to work with me. You know this. You will get hurt if you leave."_

_"It would be worth it—to be with you once in a while. I wouldn't mind."_

_The meal is forgotten now. I sigh, rising from my seat to walk over to him. He has his head buried in his arms, hiding from me. I gently place my hand atop his arm, my mouth hovering over the exposed ear. "I would go mad if you were harmed. You must know that."_

_His bangs fall to either side, exposing his eyes as he tilts his head toward me. "Is that what love is then? Doing what is best for someone, even if they don't agree?"_

_I cannot stop my hand from reaching out, tucking his bangs behind his ear. "For me yes, that is how I show my love."_

_"I don't understand it Itachi. Love isn't like that for me."_

_My hand falls to his shoulder, fingers tracing the collar of his shirt. "What is your love then, Sasuke?"_

_"It is always there." He catches my hand, holding it in between both of his as his eyes trace every detail of them. "Burning in me, leaving room for nothing else. Nothing and no one else matters. I would do anything they wanted." I have followed his eyes as they roamed my hands, tracing every scar, every imprint my life has left on me. Suddenly he covers them with his own hands, catching a hold of my gaze. He stares up at me, intensity unmistakable. "Even stay locked up in a house, every day. All day. I'd do that, because he wants me to."_

_I do not see it coming. What brought him to reach up, grabbing me by tie and pulling me toward him, is unknown to me. Though in truth, I do not mind. His lips are soft and warm as they brush against mine. He does not pause after the first, fleeting, contact. He pushes against me, my feet stumbling back. I have stopped thinking entirely, his intensity burning away all sensation, all thought, that is not centered on him._

_After a long, exhilarating minute, he pulls away, his breath coming out in short puffs._

_Had…he meant to do this? No, that was a silly question. He knew what he was doing when he kissed me. Why now? We have never kissed, nor done any sort of romantic actions. I knew I desired them, had sense he turned sixteen. For nearly a year and half I had done nothing, burying the desire deep within myself._

_"Sasuke?"_

_He locks his attention on me again. He leans forward, his lips falling on my neck. My heart-rate increases, nearly jumping alive as he kisses along my neck toward my collarbone. If he continues this behavior I will not be able to without the desire to have him. I reach out with my palm, pulling his face up to look at me._

_"Sasuke, are you sure you want to continue this? There will be no going back."_

_He leans into my head, turning his head just enough to kiss the inside of my palm._

_"I want to show you Itachi, how much I love you. Let me, please."_

* * *

His words echo in my head as my mind hazes out, tugging at my legs pulling me to reality in a blur of pain and discomfort. Hatake is there in front me, his knees against the edge of the car, nice khaki pants dyed red from my seeping leg cradled in his hands.

He gives me stern look, muttering about irresponsible business partners and tugs harder at the bandage being wrapped around my wound. Hatake has found me. I will live. A sudden spasm of my leg has my vision swimming in a myriad of color and with a groan I feel my mind enter delirium once again.

* * *

_Sasuke is there atop the couch, his legs drawn up against this body as he stares out across the room. His chin fits perfectly between his knees, his hands flat against the smooth red finish of the couch. Like discarded bullets, paint dot the tiled surface. Brushes, missing large chunks of their wooden handle, are percasioulous strewn across the room. A mass of half painted canvas's, depicting some sort of house, are scattered around the studio. Several have gashes cut through their center, some hacked from the side._

_He sits there staring at it all._

_I stand in the doorway, stunned into immobility, watching him stare at the mess he made. My suitcase handle held loosely, the smooth surface of its leather a vivid sensation in what I know is a memory. I cannot speak. Only stand there and stare._

_"I had a dream Itachi."_

_I say nothing, I can't. My tongue is still stuck to the bottom of my mouth, dry and fat as I wonder at what dream—what subconscious emotion—could have generated conflict strong enough for him to destroy so much._

_"You were there big brother. You always seem to be. Mom and dad were laying on the floor, bleeding out from wounds on their backs and legs. Father was cursing you and calling you a traitor as he struggled to breath. I sat in the corner, watching it all as you killed them."_

_I forced myself to breath, to keep the panic from rising up and suffocating me. It is difficult. My mind seizing up—holding me in a panic. He hadn't remembered had he?_

_"I…" he eyes lose focus, blurring as he stares out at the room. "I was happy. Happy that you weren't killing me, only them." He brought his empty gaze to me, eyebrows furrowing in horror. "Why would I be happy Itachi? Why would I want to live after everyone dies?"_

_I am next to him now, my arms circling around his shaking body. His tears are wept and cold as he sobs into my shirt. Had he been struggling with this all day? Oh Sasuke. I grip the spikes of his hair tenderly, holding him against me. "It's okay Sasuke, it was just a dream. Its not wrong to want to live. It is okay to survive. It's okay."_

* * *

My eyes opened, the words from my memory a soft oath on my lips. Its okay to survive. Hatake stirs next to me, his eyes snapping open as I rustle in the bed, blankets shoved off of me in my struggle to sit. His hands reached out, pulling me up to a seated position. "Easy there Itachi, don't over do it. You had several wounds in your chest. Not as deep as your leg but bad. What mess did you get yourself into this time?"

I groaned, my head heavy, my thoughts muddled and thick as I forced myself to try and think—to speak. "Sasuke," I manage to whisper, the pain jolting through me in agonizing stabs.

"Itachi you can't—" He is speaking but my mind is hazy, unable to follow his words. Is he speaking again? "-followed you-"

His words filter through my hazy mind, distorted and complicated until all I hear are the words, "followed him" and in a rush, I shove at him, sending him toppling over his chair to land roughly on the floor. "Sasuke."

Hatake has his hands against my body now, forcing me down. I feel a large needle stick into my thigh and suddenly my world is black once more.

* * *

_My hands are raw and bleeding, cuts along the back starting to blister. Father picks his sword back up._

_"Good job Itachi. Another few sessions and you will beat me."_

_He does not look at me. He stalks past, the sword in his hand shaking._

_Why? I look at my own sword, the blade a glistening sliver light in the room. Do I scare him?_

_Mother won't look at me anymore either. Father as well. Did I scare…everyone?_

_Father has left the room. I follow him out, my mind still numbed by his expression._

_"'Big brother? You are done!"_

_I look up up toward the porch steps. Sasuke stands up in a hurry, rushing over to me. His eyes widen in delight, his smile almost infectious._

_He is looking at me. His eyes lock onto mine and I know, he is not scared of me. Would he be though, if he saw what I could do?_

_I step closer, my body moving on its own. "Sasuke, what is it you need?"_

_He looks down, his face a soft pink of embarrassment. "C-C-can, well," he stammers for a moment before stopping, suddenly looking up at me. "You look like you need a hug. A-and you have an owie. Can I kiss it better?"_

_Kiss it better? I pull my hands out from around my back, holding them in front of me. Gashes along the side are bleeding again. The small nicks and cuts around the fingers have slowed. The scabs around my knuckles have broken open again. Every week I have less injuries. Every week I get better. I close my eyes, imagining a day when there won't be any. Would he be scared of me at that point?_

_"'Tachi?"_

_My eyes open to his small hands reaching out around my own. He little lips lean down, kissing each cut and scrape, kissed so gently I feel only the fleeting softness of his lips against my hands. A kiss to heal a wound I hadn't even known existed. I wonder though, which wound? The physical or the emotional?_

_I let my arms wrap around Sasuke, pulling him into a hug, one he returns with the gusto joy of a child. If he does not fear me now, perhaps there is hope. If I act, I can ensure he does not ever advert his gaze. I can control that much at least, can I not?_

_Sasuke looks up at me, his mouth opens to speak. His words are lost on me as the memory blurs, fuzzing until I am outside his bedroom._

_The doorknob is splintered apart, blood dripping into the room. My eyes follow the trail to Sasuke in the middle of the floor, a knife to his throat. The guard has the knife pressed tight, a rivet of blood dripping along the edge of the blade. He is glaring up at me, screaming some demands my mind does not process._

_There is a bang and the gun in my hand is smoking. I do not remember shooting him, not now in my hazy dream or back then. The guard is dead, blood seeping out of the hole in his black cap._

_Sasuke runs to me screaming. Him too, I do not hear. I stare at him however, my eyes burrowing into his red cheeked face. He could have died. The guard could have killed him. Sasuke. My baby brother, the only creature in the house to look at me without cringing. If he died, what would become of me? If all saw me as a monster, is that not what I would become? A monster._

_If the guard wanted to hurt him, who else desired him harm? My eyes dart to the body, to the gun in my hand. If I had not known how to hit a target, to shoot a gun, Sasuke might have died. What else did I need to know to keep him safe?_

_Father's shadow behind me is a vacuum, pulling all my thoughts into its depth until this memory too, fades into black._

* * *

_"You are talented."_

_The words are silk on a sheet of paper. I turn to look at the snake—pale and dark and so vile he can be nothing else—and nod my head in acknowledgment. I could speak but that would betray my dislike. He just laughs. He leans against the wall watching me shoot bullets into straw. That night I showered twice but could not wash off the feel of his stare._

_He is there again the next day and the next. It is only the fourth day, as I walk by that I see him with Sasuke. My brother is laughing gleefully and it is this sound that has me stepping toward him subconsciously. I stop abruptly as I realize who is there with my brother. That it is he who entertaining Sasuke. I swallow the anger building on my tongue. Shoving it down and aside I make myself remember that I am in control now._

_"Sasuke," I call._

_Yellow eyes and a smirking mouth and I know that this will be the end. Know even has the pudgy hands of my brother close around my shirt that this will always be about me._

* * *

"Itachi are you alive? What did you do? I can't—damn it! Kisame I need you over here!"

* * *

_Mother is dressed in her best formal kimono, the satin silk shimmering red underneath the soft candle light of the dining room. She adjusts her position, a rustles of fabric as she leans forward with the tea. My father is across from her, his hands tight and the frown so frequently in place has become a grim line._

_"Is that your condition then?"_

_The stranger across from him is tall and thin, his sleek black hair pulled in a woven bun atop his head. White embroidered snakes wind down the golden fabric of his yukata. He is old but remarkably beautiful still, his eyes tinted almost gold by the makeup around them. No matter how much make up he attempts to hide behind there is no disguise effective enough to hide a serpent._

_"Yes. If you want the funding to move out of exile that is what I require. Do you find them acceptable?"_

_My father tightens his hands, flicking glances my way in a visible show of unease. He does not like them but perhaps not for the obvious reasons. After all, at this point, he feared me and what I was capable of. If he did this, accepted these terms, he knew how I would react._

_My fathers head dipped down with a sigh before slowly nodding his agreement. My hands tightened as I gripped the blue silk of my yukata. How dare he? Nothing was worth this. Not the clan, not him or his pride. Nothing. I knew the pressure he faced from the other clansmen but still. It wasn't worth the price._

_The stranger chuckled, tea cup setting down atop the table with a soft click. "Excellent. I will be back in two weeks' time to retrieve him. Have Sasuke ready."_

_The stranger rises from his seated position, two of his hooded bodyguards immediately falling in line behind him. No more words are spoken and without so much as a trifled protest he walks out the door. I wait until I hear their footsteps exit the home before I stand, turning on my father._

_"You would trade Sasuke for your graceful return to society?" I demand, fury keeping my hands in tight balls against my thighs._

_"I like this no better than you do Itachi but that was his terms. I will not hand over you so Sasuke it is."_

_"Why not me?" I demand. "have too much time and money invested my ability to kill for your clients? Sasuke is too young for something like this. I will go if you insist on giving into that man."_

_"No!" My father snaps at me, his hand slamming down atop the table. "You will not do anything. Sasuke is old enough. He will understand. We have no choice, can't you see that?"_

_"He may understand Father but I do not." I bite back the retort I so desperately wanted to give, the warnings I wanted to snap out at him. Sasuke was not his to give away. Had he been there to quiet the child when he was too helpless to care for himself? Had Father been the one to teach him to crawl? To teach him his first words? To calm his nightmares? No. Father had been absent, off chasing a dream of honor and wealth. Mother had been no better. No. Sasuke was not theirs to give away. He was mine._

_I run off to courtyard, stopping as I see a figure in the back. The memory fades and blurs, skipping I know my humiliating defeat at the hands of my deliverer. He is there in front of me, clothed in black and red clouds. He stands tall, hovering over me as I kneel on the ground, my blade several yards to my right. He kneels down, long black hair brushing the ground as he picks my chin up in his hands, sneering down at me._

_"You're good. Almost as good as I was at your age. Did your father train you?" he chuckles, shoving my chin away as he stands. "Get up off the ground. The strong never kneel before those weaker than them and," he chuckles again. "Aside from myself there is no one stronger than you."_

_I do as he commands, my legs quivering underneath me. They are bruised and abused from our fight. I had not lost before, not like this. The bitter taste of defeat leaves me frustrated and angry. "What do you want?" I snap._

_"To offer you an alternative. You can't kill your father and everyone here by yourself, no matter how good you think you are. If you'd like I can help you. So long as you help me in return."_

_"Why would you do that?"_

_"Because I am bored and need some help sending a message to someone. It won't be hard I promise. Just spend a few years doing exactly what you have been taught how to. Or would you rather that precious brother of yours be taken away by Orochimaru?"_

_The thought of him in the snake's hands leaves me chilled. To have to live on without him, surrounded by nothing but pressure, anger and death…no light to smile at me, no simple love to draw me back to the world of the living…to live on as a monster…_

_"What message do you need sent?"_

_Perfect white teeth and the scent of death sends my mind deeper, my world falling again to black._

* * *

"Itachi, don't move! Kisame took care of Konan like you asked, its okay. You are safe for now. Hold still! I am getting him, just—just stay here on my bed!"

* * *

_The room is dark. Sasuke's voice is a whimper beside me. I reach out instinctively coiling my hand around his. He is so small. I feed him but cooking is difficult. How had mother kept up with all of it? I manage rice and some vegetables yet still he is shrinking._

_My hands tighten around smaller shaking hands. I will have to ask for help again it seemed. What would he demand now? The island massacre had been more for him than myself. The home he designed and built was perfect and yet, I had paid for it had I not? Three months in and I could no longer count the amount of people I had killed. When would it end? Would it ever? Perhaps he will give me a break. I need to figure out how to handle Sasuke here alone for the weeks he sends me away._

_In my anxiety my hands have threaded themselves in-between Sasuke's. The stress of my thoughts are a weight against us both, pressing us into the mattress._

_I do not fall asleep again._

_Sasuke is next to me, his body heavy with sleep as he slumbers, hands thrown across the pillow. In my hand the pile of papers tremble, a symptom of my lack of nutrition. I needed to eat today, hadn't yesterday, but my mind is stuck on the bold letters in front of me._

_Dear Uchiha Itachi,_

_We congratulate you on your acceptance into ANBU Law School. Due to your external situations we are pleased to work with you through our accelerated online courses…_

_I had done it. No more weeks away from Sasuke. I could stay here, watch him; like I knew I needed to do. Had to, if we were going to survive. The damp paper in my hand is the only way I know I am crying. Things were going to get better. After three years of madness things were finally going to get better._

_I am staring down at the pile of blood around Sasuke and I know things are not better. My hands move on their own, leaving my numb mind behind. I tear off his shirt, searching for the wound. It is on his wrist. Of course it is. Why? Why would he do this? Things had been rough.I knew I had been gone a lot but it could not be helped. Didn't he understand that? It would stop for a while now. Couldn't he wait? I finish tying off the make-shift band-aid around his wound. He will live. The scar will always be there but he will live._

_Finally, I breath._

* * *

The big red door in front of me is crooked. In my haze this does not seem unusual. Inconvenient but normal. I feel my shoulder collide with one side as I fumble the doorknob open. Cold air and the misty darkness of the night are the only observations that register. Sasuke, he must be so worried. It is already night. A day has passed? Two? My feet fumble, my hands hitting stone steps as I roll down. I have to hurry. Back to Sasuke, before Hatake finds me. He will not understand. No one does.

The haze in my head clears for a moment, long enough for me to recognize that I am home then it begins to slip. I struggle to cling onto reality, searching for anchor. The bedroom. Sasuke. I have pushed the door open. I stagger toward the stairs leading to the second floor. I cannot think past much. I need to know he is okay. I must see him.

Sasuke must have heard me. He is at the top of the stairs, standing there; hand atop the railing, pale as ash. I must look frightful to cast his face into such despair. Don't look like that Sasuke. I am still here aren't I? I came like I promised. I am still here.

I vaguely register my head hitting something, my shoulder colliding almost immediately with the wall. The pain is there in my body but I cannot seem to focus on it with Sasuke looking at me, his eyes wide as he rushes down the stairs. I feel his fingers dig into my shoulders, sharp and real in my haze. His grip is tight and frantic. Why is he so scared? I am alive aren't I?

Even in this state I find myself in awe of his beauty. Ivory and smooth like the most perfect porcelain. Is he my doll? Sasori thought so. Deidara too. They are wrong aren't they? My eyes watch his lips, so pink and soft, are moving repeatedly and it is so distracting. He must be talking so I try harder to concentrate. Oh, my dear Sasuke, are you crying? Have…I done this to you? Am I really to blame? Am I reason that you paint with blood? That you scream at night? Is…is this worth it?

No. No. No. No. No.

My actions have not been wrong. I am right. There was no need to cry. I would be alright. I had to be. If I wasn't how would I protect him? I had to protect him. There were so many people who want to harm him. My actions were the correct ones to make. I am not to blame.

I feel him slide under my arm and it confuses me. What is he doing? A tug and a pull and we are moving. Ah, he is pulling me up the stairs. I am having trouble putting my thoughts together and it is frustrating. I must listen; he is speaking. I am not sure what he is saying. I must concentrate. I cannot falter here. I must always be there for Sasuke. I have to. I am the only one he has.

"Hold on big brother, we are almost there. I can help you with this. What happened?" He is still crying. I must do something. My thoughts muddled and slippery as I attempt to put them together. Why can I not think? My arms aren't responding. I must hold him. I must reassure him that everything is okay. I will not falter, not now, not here. There is still too much to do.

I must have spoken aloud; Sasuke is responding to me. "It's okay Itachi, I can help. I am not a kid anymore. Let me help."

We have made it to our bedroom. My mind is slow and only after I feel the bed underneath me that I realize I can no longer feel my right leg. The detail seems unimportant compared to watching Sasuke for signs of further distress.

My precious brother has at last stopped crying, leaving in its wake something foreign yet familiar. What is that look in your eye Sasuke? I find myself needing to laugh. Oh how I wish I still could. He looks so cute. His lips are in frown, his eyes hard and set, so very determined. What is it he wishes to do?

I feel him remove my clothes and hear the soft intake of breath as he sees the wound in my leg. It must be worse than I thought. Perhaps I should have had Hatake take me home after all. Wasn't that the reason I allowed him a glimpse of my sanctuary in the first place? Had Hatake taken me home? A memory of khaki pants and a needle tug at the edge of my mind. I do not understand. Not not anyway.

Sasuke returns—when had he left — with a jumble of items in his hands. I involuntarily hiss as I feel the alcohol wash over my leg. Soon after the gentle tugging of a needle takes away all of my attention. When had he learned to stitch?

"Almost done big brother, hold on, just a little more. I will take care of you."

I feel my consciousness begin to fade. The image of Sasuke cleaning my body off the last I see as I fall into slumber. My thoughts narrowed and focused on the price I was forcing him to pay. This plan had to work. It had to.

**X**

I wake to the fragrant smell of soup and the unique scent that is Sasuke. My body aches, my leg a lump of a pain, throbbing stronger with each second that I get closer to consciousness. I am not surprised. I did after all, run off before I was healed.

"Brother! You are awake. I know it must hurt but I couldn't find any painkillers." He sounds so frustrated.

"Do not worry yourself Sasuke, I am used to the pain. Is that soup for me?" I ask gently, effectively blocking the pain from my attention. That too, was something I had grown accustom.

Sasuke's eyes light up, his movements quick as he gathers the bowl. I see a spoon in his hand. "Yes, you need to eat. You have been asleep for over a day." I do not have to hear the concern in his voice; I see it in the circles under his eyes. I do not doubt he has spent the whole time awake, at my side.

There is a voice in my head that whispers of guilt, fueled by the selfishness I know I harbor. It is loud this morning, echoing through my mind.

_How much will you put him through before you are satisfied? Will it ever be too much?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. If it is confusing let me know. I tried to fill in the blank parts of their past and give a little hindsight as to why Itachi is the way he is. Again, if it was too confusing please let me know.


	12. The Fox takes Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it again. I set a deadline for myself and life hit the fan. I swear it happens every single time I try and stick to a deadline. *sigh*
> 
> Anywho, this chapter was actually one of the first I wrote. By the time I reached it chronologically the story had evolved so I had to go back and edit it a decent bit to make it fit the current story. It is still one of my favorite though. Hopefully you guys will like it too. ^^ It is not beta'd by the way so let me know if you find any typo's.

* * *

 

**CHAPTER TWELVE: A FOX TAKES ACTION**  

* * *

 

 

The image of Sakura, leaning one tense hand against the bar, pink glossed lips pulled down in a permanent frown, seemed out of place. I blinked a few times and realized I didn't remember much of the past few hours. I was downtown I think. Maybe. So perhaps it wasn't that out of place. Who knew.

“That is your twelfth beer Naruto. You have to stop drinking.”

The words Sakura insisted on speaking to me sounded far off; not part of the reality I had created around myself. Thus, it seemed fitting to simply squint up from where my face lay smushed against the countertop. She looked distorted and unrealistic through the empty shot glass resting next to my eyes. She was totally not real. Probably just another figment of alcohol poisoning. 

The cold smooth surface beneath my cheek felt real. I tried to remember the bar it belonged to but I failed. Judging by how out of it I was, this place was probably just one of the  many dad had left me in his will. I couldn't be bothered to remember them all.

Sakura said something else and this time, I couldn’t hear her, let alone understand her. I kept looking at her though, I could do that much. 

Then she moved closer to me and began shouting. I ignored whatever it was she was yelling about in favor of smashing my hand around for another cup of liquor. With each thump of my hand I grew closer and closer to a coherent state of thinking. If Sakura was fake, she would be in a bikini or something. not her nurse scrubs. So that meant this Sakura was real.

Well, whatever she wanted to say could wait until I felt better. Alcohol aside, my head throbbed and complained in agony. The past few weeks had been a mess. Waking to a dead body, though not my first time, had been unpleasant. Unpleasant but tolerable, I’d seen my fair share growing up.

My conversation with Uchiha however—that took the cake. Malicious, horrible Uchiha.

What kind of sick bastard just dropped a corpse in their neighbors room, belittled them, and  then left? That had been fun trying to get rid of. Finally had to resort to calling Sai in for a favor. I hated asking the creep but he owed me and luckily, operated one of the many crematories in the city.

Still, Itachi Uchiha must be the devil incarnate.

Lucky devil, my drunken fueled lust whispered, supplying the commentary with full erotic images of Sasuke. Him naked and eager, his face flushed and blissful, those larger hands running up his body… Itachi’s hands, not mine.

My desperate fumbling along the bar counter finally managed to reward me the whiskey bottle I had ordered sometime ago. Raising it to my lips I downed what remained. If I could still think I wasn’t drunk enough.

“What happened to you? I mean really, you smell worse than you look and trust me—that’s pretty bad. You don’t drink and when you do, its not ever this much. Tell me what happened. I need to know so I can help you. Or at least go admit yourself to a hospital. You haven’t left this bar in days.”

I don’t blame Sakura. She cares about me and just wants to help, even if she is wrong. I don’t need to tell anyone. How could I? Where would I even start? Hey Sakura, I fell in love with Rapunzel and her evil-stepbrother who by the way, has sex with her, dumped a dead body in my living room? Yeah right.

I set the whiskey bottle back on the bar flicking it with my finger, watching it roll around. “No Sakura I don’t need to do anything.”

My hand reached out to grab another drink a ways down the bar when I felt her fingers close around my wrist.

“You are not getting another cup until you tell me who you met and why it has left you drunk. _For two weeks._ _”_

Groaning I muttered an agreement, glad to have her release the iron grip on my poor wrist. If I had to talk then I would give as little information as possible. Sasuke didn’t need the cops trying to break down the place. Besides, if I did report something I’d just be sending the poor cops to their death.

“His name is Sasuke,” I mumbled, already feeling my cheeks heat up at the mention of him.

“He? That is a new one. I thought you had decided you liked girls better.”

I groaned, his face floating up in my head. Those perfect lips, deep eyes…that hair and skin… “If you saw him Sakura you would know gender doesn’t matter. He is _perfect._ _”_

“Alright so you found your soulmate. That doesn’t explain the copious amounts of alcohol. Does he not like you?”

“I dunno, he hasn’t ever actually met me.”

“What? Since when have you been shy?”

Now that I had opened my mouth I was finding it harder to keep quiet about Sasuke. Still, like I mentioned before, I couldn’t say much. If I let on that my soulmate, as she dubbed him, was locked in his own house, she might call the authorities. Even if they managed to come back alive, getting his brother locked in prison probably wasn’t the quickest way to Sasuke’s heart. Or killing him but you know, hard to repress the angry urge when Itachi so deserved it.

“I’m not. He…he is a shut-in. He refuses to leave his house.” That would work, no mention of a possessive incestual brother or Rapunzel syndrome.

“A shut-in?” I could see the interest in her eyes. Here we go, another subject for Sakura’s psychological practice. “For how long?”

“Um, his whole life. I think. We haven’t talked much. He doesn’t have a phone.”

“No phone? A computer then?”

I doubted Sasuke even knew what a computer was. I had a feeling Itachi had kept him in the dark about anything he could use to contact the outside world. “No.”

“How have you contacted him so far?”

My blush came creeping back. “P-paper-airplanes through his window…” It sounded really lame when I said it out loud like that.

Sakura broke out in a big smile. “That is so cute!” she gushed.

I knew at this point I was completely red. “Yeah well, we only talked a couple of times.” The image of Itachi kissing slowly down Sasuke’s throat flashed through my mind. “He has a lover,” I grumbled.

“A lover? Well at least that means he likes guys,” Sakura perked, ever the optimist.

Yeah, I thought to myself, his brother. Not exactly a good start. “Even if he does like guys it doesn’t matter if he won’t like me. He is like, really in love.” I remembered the look on his face, the way Sasuke’s long fingers anchored themselves in _his_ shirt.

“Naruto, if his lover is the only person he has ever seen, of course he would be totally in love. He hasn’t had the chance to fall for anyone else. He may not even know what love is supposed to be like.”

I felt my eyes widen, my head slowly turning to stare at Sakura as her words sunk in. _Of course!_ It made perfect sense! Itachi had complete control of Sasuke’s world. It would have been easy for Itachi to manipulate Sasuke into falling in love with him. Why had I not thought of this before?

I felt my hands around the cup tighten. How could he do this to Sasuke? It was so wrong. Itachi would see justice done. I would get him myself.

 “Naruto, hey, let go of the cup! You are going to break it!”

At Sakura’s words I looked down at the glass in my hand. Swearing I let it drop to the counter. Sure enough a long crack had formed at the rim.

“Look, you have it easy Naruto. Just find a way to meet him then sweep him off his feet. If you can help him get over whatever is causing him to stay inside his house then I guarantee he will fall for you.” She gave me an affectionate punch on the shoulder.

Overcome his inability to leave? That was easy. I just had to get Itachi out of the picture. He was the reason Sasuke refused to leave. If I got him to believe Itachi wasn’t right then he would leave the house and we could live happily ever after. It was perfect!

“Thanks Sakura! You are the best!” I gave her a big hug before dropping a wad of twenties on the bar and dashing out the door.

* * *

When I got back to the apartment building next to Sasuke’s house, I ducked my head out, checking for notes. Maybe he had missed me.

I forced the guilt stuck in my throat down as my eyes fell upon the five knives stuck in the boards of the house. Wait, I missed the last one nudged under the window sill. That made six. That was all he owned. My heart sank. He had indeed, been trying to reach me.

Frantically I stuck my hand out to grip the cold steel handle. A few quick jerks had them out and into my room. My fingers shook with the anxiety as I scanned the notes.

_Can you get in the house Naruto? I need to see you. Please try. Can you bring some medicine for fevers?_

He wanted to see me? Was this the first note? The last? I tore off the next paper.

_Naruto, something happened. I need to talk to you._

_You didn_ _’t get my last note. What happened? Are you mad? If you can’t get in just please respond. I need you._

I felt my chest constrict with each note I opened. He sounded so desperate. What had happened? Was Sasuke hurt? Did he need my help? Had Uchiha hurt him? I remembered the body, cut up and brutalized. Itachi had said Sasuke had killed the guy but if he had been lying? Would he do that to Sasuke? I needed to see him, make sure he is okay. Maybe I wouldn’t be too late. I had to try.

It had taken me this whole time but I was pretty sure I’d nailed down a way to get in. There was a skylight falling over top what I guessed was their bedroom. If I could cut the power to their house without Itachi getting alerted of my attempted break in, then I could fall in through the sky line and all would be great.

There was a transformer about a block down from their house. If I blew it up, then Itachi wouldn’t think it was anything but a natural, unfortunate occurrence. Knowing Uchiha, he would have a backup generator for their house. I’d have a small window of time before the security cameras and alarms would work again. Assuming I got in, then all I had to worry about was cameras _inside_ the house. Hopefully there weren’t any. And if there were? Well, I was desperate enough I’d take that risk.

It took me the rest of the day and the next morning to get things set but by noon I was ready to go. I looked at my wrist watch, watching the hands tick. From my place atop my apartment’s home I heard the small explosion, saw the smoke down the street and knew it was now or never. With a jump I threw myself off the roof of my building, trusting the parachute on my back to carry me to Sasuke’s roof. I was right and with a cry of success I landed atop the skylight.

One minute and thirty seconds before the generator would kick on. Hooking my fingers under the skylight I lifted it up. In one smooth motion I threw the lid up and slide in, barely making it before the lid fell shut behind me.

With a grunt I landed on the carpet. Suppressing my wince, I looked up then stopped, my surprise freezing my breath behind my lips. He was there. Sasuke was right there, standing in front of me. My mind could barely register my surroundings—a small landing of sorts—I was so preoccupied with finally seeing him face-to-face. His dark eyes had widen to an impossible size, almost as if he had seen a ghost. But man was he beautiful.

Somewhere in the back of my head I knew he was probably going to start screaming. My mind couldn’t seem to get over being there in front of him. I didn’t think myself one for vanity but I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. It was if I was staring at the painting back at the firm, expect not. I couldn’t describe it.

“H-hey,” I managed to stammer out.

He blinked several times before stepping back. The bowl in his hand dropped to the ground, shattering. Sasuke’s eyes grew even wider and his mouth opened. It was about this time I noticed he was shacking. His whole body seemed to be trembling with the force of his fear. I wasn’t that scary. What had caused this? Did he not recognize me? Come to think of it, were those bags under his eyes? And his clothes, they looked like he’d slept in them a few times over.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise.” The words left my mouth before my mind caught up. It was a good thing to say right? I wouldn’t hurt him of course. He reminded me of a doll. A beautiful, fragile doll. The little voice in the back of my head, the one that Jiraiya kept insisting was important, whispered that something was not right.

“Get out.” He stated. It started out soft but he repeated it, each time rising in volume. He began looking around and I knew he must be looking for an alarm button.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” I told him softly. “I’m a friend okay? It’s me, Naruto.” To prove my point I shoved my hand in my pocket to pull out the small picture of a fox he had drawn me.

He looked at it a moment then back up at me. Man, those eyes were amazing. Like the sky at night. And his hair, oh _man_ , it looked so soft. The low florescent light of the landing made it look almost blue. I really wanted to run my fingers through it.

“Naruto? You—you’re him? And you are here?” he sounded so confused. Relieved.

Standing slowly I lifted my hands, palm side up, to either side of my head. I didn’t want him to get scared and do something bad. Like scream. Or hit me. He wasn’t built per say but his arms looked muscular enough to make a few punches hurt. And supposedly he had killed someone…so yeah. Didn’t want to get hit.

“You are really here?” he asked slowly.

I smiled big at him, letting all my excitement show. “I did. It took me some time, sorry. You sounded so frantic in your notes. Are you okay?” I remembered the message I had received earlier, before I had stopped coming by. Hurriedly I pulled out the small bottle of medicine. “I got the medicine you asked for. Why do you need it? Are you hurt?”

He started shaking again. Then he just…crumbled. His legs gave out beneath him, he fell in a heap, his hands falling limp in his lap.

My legs moved on their own and in a moment I was next to him. He wasn’t okay. Something was wrong. My heart beat widely against my chest. I was so excited to see him—hold him—but he was hurt, scared. Who had done this to him? I found myself battling with feeling exalted and angry. I hadn’t ever felt this conflicted before.

Trying to keep my emotions hidden for Sasuke’s sake, I carefully wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tight against my chest. He smelled so good. I let my face bury itself in his hair, relishing the feel of it. It was as silky as I thought it would be.

That was when I heard it. A cough, followed by some wheezing. It wasn’t coming from Sasuke so… Wait. Was Itachi here? I felt panic settle in. I was dead. There was no way I was going to live through this. He would kill me or have me nailed for trespassing.

In my arms I felt Sasuke move. He was up and running in an instant. Somehow he remembered to grab the bottle I had held out to him before his legs gave out. He pushed the door open, revealing what must be the bedroom. I could easily see the bed from where I sat. There was a dresser on each side and a chair pushed right up next to the bed. _Where Itachi was laying_.

“Sasuke, I heard a noise and the lights went out for a moment.” That was Itachi’s voice. It sounded so weak. I could barely make out the words. “You sounded scared. What happened? Are you hurt?” His voice was hazy and slow. Something must have happened to him. Was that why Sasuke needed the medicine?

 “It is okay big brother. The lights came back on. I just dropped a bowl. I am going to go get you another okay? Stay there please. You need to rest.” Sasuke sounded so sad and gentle. If I got hurt would he sound like that for me? I would go break a few bones to get him to nurse me better.

“Here, take these.” I saw him bring a cup to his brother’s mouth. Itachi must have drank the water because Sasuke set the cup down atop the dresser.

I froze as I watched Sasuke lean down and place a gentle kiss on Itachi’s lips. It hurt a lot, seeing him do that. I had to remind myself of what Sakura had said. He probably didn’t know any better. After all, he hadn’t had the chance to fall for anyone else. He only knew Itachi, it was natural. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.

Sasuke walked backward, closing the door behind him.  He turned to look at me and I saw the pain, the sorrow. As much as I wanted to give him a reason to kiss me, he looked like he needed a friend to talk to.

“Sasuke, what is wrong with your brother?”

He gave me a look and I realized that at my volume Itachi would hear me. That wouldn’t be good. I nodded my understanding in the same moment his hand grabbed mine. His hand were rough and calloused instead of the smooth I had expected but they till gave me butterflies.

With a gentle tug he led me down the staircase and past a door into what I assumed was the rest of the house. Wooden paneled walls, tile floor. A kitchen and table were tucked away in one corner. The rest was what I could only assume was the studio Sasuke had talked about. I felt my eyes widen as they took everything in.

There were paintings on the floor leaning up against the wall. Some on eisles; others were hanging from the wood paneled walls. As my eyes wandered among them I noticed a trend. A very, very strong trend. Sometimes it was obvious, other times it was subtle and harder to tell.

_But nearly all of them were of Itachi._

I felt that sick feeling in my stomach clench tighter. I remembered Itachi’s face as I mentioned the artist, remembered the quick silent anger. Remembered the gentle kiss from moments ago and the heated ones I had watched weeks past. And all these paintings… All they saw were each other. He didn’t care about anything but Sasuke. Why would he lock him up like this if he wasn’t scared stiff of losing him?

I had been around enough to recognize part of my anger as jealously. It was hard not to be. It took a special sort of love to be this obsessed.

It was wrong. No one should be obsessed with each other. Not to this point.

_But I still wanted to be a part of it._

I turned around to talk to Sasuke. He sat on the floor, next to the big red couch in the studio. He had his legs drawn to his chest, his black hair spilling across the blue fabric of his jeans. I couldn’t see his face, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to, judging by the way he was hugging his calves.

Slowly I walked over to him. I was careful to sit on the couch close enough to hear but not touch. I didn’t think either of us could handle touching right now.

“Itachi, he, he.” Sasuke was crying. I felt my heart break. I didn’t ever want to see him hurt and here he was crying. “My brother came home and he was bleeding. Bleeding so bad and I can’t _do_ anything. I tried to stitch his leg up and get his fever down but I didn’t know what I was doing. I mean, I read books teaching me how but nothing _real._ ” He looked up at me, his big black eyes glistening with his tears. My breath caught in my throat. He was beautiful, so very, very beautiful. He understood so little yet still cared about everything with such fierce passion.

“I can’t leave Naruto. Even if I could, I wouldn’t know what to do or where to go. Where do you buy medicine?”

His voice was breaking with the force of his desperation and all I could do was stare at him. I knew he needed me to listen but I just couldn’t seem to. He sat there, huddled and crying and repeating the same phrase over and over again.

_All I could do was think how beautiful he was._

My body seemed to have designs all its own, and suddenly I was there, my hand brushing his bangs away from his face, my lips gently falling to press a kiss against his temple. He immediately scooted back, his pupils dilating to that impossible size again.

I tried to smile.

“I—I’m sorry, I probably should have asked permission first huh?” My throat gurgled out a feeble laugh. It sounded hollow even to my ears. He just kept staring at me. I swallowed hard, sitting back down on the couch. “So, uh, ahem.” I stood up, sheepishly rubbing at the back of my head. “Uh, about Uch—Itachi. Yeah, that’s his name right?”

At the mention of his brother’s name Sasuke seemed to reconnect with reality. He stood up, wiping his face with his sleeve. “My brother yes, Itachi. He…he is going to be alright, isn’t he?”

I hadn’t a clue. Not one freakin’ idea. For once I regretted not listening to Sakura rant about her med homework more. I had to say something though. “Y-yeah, I think he will be. I mean, he is a strong guy right?” He certainly terrified me enough. “I would offer to take a look at him but I don’t think he’d be too happy to see me.”

That one got a smile out of Sasuke. Score one for Uzumaki!

“Yeah, I don’t think he would either. Itachi can be a bit protective.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep back the response begging to come out. A bit was a drastic understatement. The guy had Sasuke kept under house arrest for what? A decade?  His whole life? I wasn’t sure but it was certainly way too long.

Our little talk seemed to do a lot for his mood. A teasing half smile on his lips he walked over to sit on the couch next to me. I could feel his body heat radiating off of him. It was addictive. My hand scooted closer, falling to rest in-between him and I. I was sweating. No helping it, not with him this closer. I wanted so badly to hold his hand or maybe rest our shoulders together. Something, anything that told me I meant as much to him as he did me. When did I get this bad?

My tongue swept across my lips, moistening them to ease my nerves. “So, Sasuke, I gotta say its nice to finally meet you face to face.” I smiled at him. The big cheesy kind that made my eyes disappear.

“Yeah…yeah it is. I am excited, I am sorry if I don’t act like it. I am just so worried…”

I reached out, my hand covering his own. He looked up at me in surprise. I really didn’t want him running away again so I reached out with my other hand, covering Sasuke’s completely.  “Please don’t pull away again Sasuke, I am here for you. Please, let me help you feel better.”

He looked at our hands then back to my face, my lips, then our hands again.

“Naruto, is that what friends do? Comfort each other?”

“Yeah, it is. We are friends aren’t we?”

He nodded absently, his attention focused on my hands. I opened them, palms up. He withdrew his hand then gently, with one finger tip, followed the lines on my hands. They were scarred and thick from use—not so different than his.

He stopped for a moment. All air seemed to freeze, my breath left my body as he leaned his head forward toward mine. His lips, red and bruised from crying, were suddenly there, pressing up against my own. I stopped thinking. My hands rose to cup his face, my thumb rubbing across his soft cheek. It felt amazing. Hands down the best kiss I ever had.

Then he pulled away slowly, just far enough away to lock eyes with me. “Comfort me then. Naruto.”

That was permission wasn’t it? My hands still on his face I pulled him toward me, our lips meeting in a deeper kiss than before. My mouth moved against his in a sensual dance that me more turned on than I ever remember being. My palms swept across his shoulders, his back, his stomach, they couldn’t hold still. I wanted to feel every inch of him. He was so perfect.

His hands haven’t moved yet, still placed firm against the fabric of the couch. That was probably why, when I pushed gently forward, he let himself fall against the couch until he lay there on his back, looking up at me. My stomach immediately cramped up, tensing and twisting into a knot.

I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. He would let me, I know he would. He would let me kiss down his neck, across his chest—wherever I wanted. Let me caress his body, pulling it against mine until the friction of it drove us both mad.

But I couldn’t.

I sat up. My hands clawed themselves into my hair, digging at mys scalp till it burned.

“Naruto? What is wrong?”

I couldn’t keep the dry, humorless chuckle back; it came spilling out, bounding off the walls.

“Naruto?” he sounded so confused. I am sure he was. How couldn’t he be? For heaven’s sake he understood so little. This was probably how Itachi comforted him, how Itachi kissed him. Held him.

_Made love to him._

My hands balled my hair up tight. I was furious and that knowledge—that understanding I couldn’t ignore—screamed at me that I was only mad because I couldn’t have it. I couldn’t shake the fear that I was a replacement, not an original.

Oh but how I wanted it. Wanted it more than anything I had ever wanted before. Something deep and primal made me want to take him, leave my mark to warn everyone else away.

Sasuke was there next to me now. Looking up at me with his eyes furrowed. “Did I do something wrong? Do…do you want to leave?”

Did I want to leave? Of course not. I never wanted to leave. I wanted to hold on to him forever. Was this love?

Not love. No. This was the beginning of something far more twisted.

Obsession.

My conscience had my stomach clenching into a stone, sinking into my gut with each horrified realization, each resurfacing memory, proving to myself of what I had become.

I didn’t have long to sit in self-hate. A sudden clicking noise to my left and a loud, echoing statement of my name jolted me to my feet.

“Naruto.”

Itachi was there, leaning against the wall with a handgun pointed at my forehead. I hadn’t even heard him come down the stairs.

“You were warned.”

His voice was ice.

I was going to die. He would shoot me here and now and I would die.

“Brother—no, please—don’t hurt him. You told me you wouldn’t!”

Itachi didn’t look at Sasuke, preferring to freeze-glare me to the floor. “He broke our arrangement Sasuke.”

“Not, he didn’t. I asked him Itachi. I asked him to come here.”

That did it. Itachi finally shifted his stare from me to Sasuke. “Why would you do that?”

Sasuke looked upset again now, fists balling at his sides. “Why?” he echoed. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure this was about me anymore. “You were hurt Itachi! Really, really hurt. I needed help, I couldn’t handle this on my own.”

“I was perfectly fine.”

“Fine?” Sasuke leaned forward, balling Itachi’s collar in his fist. “You came home covered in blood—your blood! You told me you wouldn’t ever let that happen and you did! You broke our promise!” Sasuke shoved at Itachi, not enough to move him but it sent the message. “Don’t get mad at Naruto for breaking his promise when you couldn’t keep yours.”

Sasuke made it to the bottom of the stairs. He turned to look at me, a wryly, tired smile pulling at the corner of his  lips. “Go home Naruto. Thank you again, for everything. I am glad I got to meet you.” He marched past me to a door in the back of the studio, presumably a bathroom. He slammed it shut behind him.

Itachi stared after Sasuke. For a moment, I managed to see his eyes pull tight, his lips thin. Then the regret his face showed was gone, leaving behind it the same robot he always was.

He hobbled down the stairs, obviously favoring one leg over another, until he reached the front door. After pulling free a key around his neck he unlocked the door, holding wide open for me. He didn’t say anything, just stared at me.

I got the message. It didn’t mean I was going to do what I was told though. “Who hurt  you?”

His lips thinned again. “That is no concern of yours Uzumaki. Now leave.”

“No concern of mine? No concern—oh shove a cork in it Uchiha! Anyone who can hurt you that bad is a danger to Sasuke. I don’t care if you fall over dead but I’m not about to let Sasuke follow suit.” I grit my teeth, hating the next sentence that followed. “You know he would too. He couldn’t live without you. If you die—he dies and there won’t be a damn thing I can do to stop it.”

He stared at me long and hard, saying nothing. We probably stood there for a good ten minutes, neither of us wiling to back down.

“Leave.” He finally said, the words spoken sounded more weary than angry.

My fists in the pockets of my pants I stalked forward, pausing as I reached the doorstep. I tilted my head back toward him. “Don’t take him down with you. If you love him as much as you claim, protect him. Let me help. I can do more than you think.”

He slammed the door in my face.

I honestly should have expected it and stepped back further but I didn’t. So I stood there, rubbing my bruised nose and swearing. My heart hurt. Twisting, cramping, sinking—every kind of pain possible. What I cared about most was so close yet I couldn’t reach it. Couldn’t have it. Hell, if Uchiha had his way Sasuke might not be there for long. He could get hurt or worse.

No.

No.

I wouldn’t let that happen. If Uchiha wouldn’t help me then I’d figure out how to protect Sasuke my way. With or without Uchiha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I know the whole scenareo of how Naruto got into the house is a little lack luster but I couldn't come up with a better way >__< I tried, like a dozen times. So please just gloss over it and move on~
> 
> So after I got done with my last edit of this chapter I made a decision that I swore, when I started this years ago, I would not do. 
> 
> I will write the next chapter in Sasuke's pov. 
> 
> I was trying to avoid that as a big part of the reason I wrote this fanfiction was to try and portray the main character purely from the pov's of other people. I wanted to see if I could do it. As I finished copying and pasting this I realized that Sasuke was demanding to say his piece. So instead of doing it as a one-shot in the Imperfection-verse I will add it is as intermission chapter. That way I won't interrupt the pattern I have thus far established. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for sticking with me through this. If you find any typo's please let me now.


	13. The Doll Speaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally it is Sasuke's POV. I hadn't ever intended to write a chapter from his POV but it kinda demanded to happen. Please remember as you read this, that Sasuke is not mentally stable at all. His and Itachi's relationship is NOT healthy. I repeat, NOT healthy. Thank you. :)

* * *

 

**INTERLUDE: THE DOLL SPEAKS**

* * *

 

My earliest memory is of Itachi. There isn’t much surrounding it, just a blur around him as he looks down at me, his eyes red around the edges. He is smiling, speaking but I can’t remember about what.  

I feel that memory encompasses my life; Itachi and a blur of everything I am not allowed to know, to understand. 

Though perhaps such a statement is redundant for all my memories involve him in some form or another.  

Often I remember little of what actual happened. Sensations are the strongest. His calloused hands against my skin or his voice, smooth as as silk and just as strong.

The most prevalent of course, is the feel of cold wood floors pressed against my feet. My shoulders cramped from hugging my knees for too long and the door—oh the door! I have long sense memorized each groove, each indent in the wood. The shape of the locks, the color gradient between each end. I could replicate its likeness on paper blind-folded. In those memories, the moments my mind taunts me with, I am there; on the floor—waiting. Always waiting. 

In a rare few memories Itachi is beside me, smiling as he instructs me in something. Telling how to do this or that; never asking. It isn’t a two way communication between him and I. He directs; I listen and obey. To do anything else is futile for it will only upset my brother. Itachi does not yell or scream. His anger is silent and still. It ties my soul to shame, filling me with self-hatred for a betrayal I never intended to act out. To go against Itachi is to pave my life with agony. Sometimes, only sometimes, is the agony worth the cost. 

Naruto had been worth it. He gave me a glimpse of a life I had only read of in books. I hadn’t bothered to keep any of his notes. I didn’t dare chance Itachi finding them. Besides, I didn’t need to. I knew them all by heart. With my eyes closed, the cold of the bathroom wall behind me, I replay them. 

_“So you can’t remember anything?”_

_“No, nothing before I moved here. Itachi tells me our parents were killed. If I leave, their killer will find me too.”_

_“Do you believe him?”_

_“Of course. Why would he lie?”_

_“But don’t you think its weird, locked up like that?”_

_“So says the guy sending me paper airplanes.”_

_“Oh forget it! What would you do, if you left?”_

_“I would see the ocean. Oh and the Hokage Mount. I would grow tomatoes and all the rest of my food. But mostly, I would paint.”_

_“Paint what?”_

_“People. All kinds. Age, gender--_ _doesn’t matter.”_

_“Why don’t you leave?”_

_“I can’t. I am safe here.”_

_“How can you be safe? Aren’t you scared of Itachi?”_

_“No, of course not. Why would I be?”_

  

When I open my eyes, He is there. The other me. The one who showed up years ago. He never seemed to leave for long. I know he isn’t real. That my mind has conjured him yet no matter how hard I try, he does not disappear.  

Today, he is laughing at me. I watch him for some time. When he finally stops his laughter, it is only to taunt me. After the first few I find myself wishing he would go back to laughing at me. It would be easier than the twisted truth he loves stabbing me with. 

He calls me a weak, simple minded fool for taking all the crap Itachi puts me through. He calls me a whore for letting Naruto kiss me. Unfaithful to Itachi, a slut willing to spread legs for anyone who gives me attention. I do not bother trying to argue with him, it will do no good. Besides, he doesn’t understand. I had been exhausted and scared when Naruto showed up. That was why I let it happen. 

_“Scared, of what? Itachi?”_

I flinch at his comment, my heart cramping with emotion at his words. 

“I’m not scared of my brother,” I say out loud, my words echoing through out the room. 

“Then why do you shake when he walks by, when he talks to you? Why do you hide by the bed? Why does he make you cry?” 

His words surge forth a feeble whimper from my lips. I am not afraid, I tell myself. He loves me. Everything he has done has been for my benefit. He kept me safe. I am not afraid. 

I try to banish the other me, the one that isn’t real but talks too much. He stays against the sink, cock eyed and grinning. My panic manages to ease out, leaving me breathless but conscious. I push my hair back in place, away from my eyes. I have no reason to be afraid of Itachi. He hasn't ever intended me true harm.  

Any harm that has been inflicted has been my fault. Not his. Yes, we had fought a handful of times during my early teens but that was because of my immaturity. He had just finished his schooling and was talking about leaving during the day again. After two years of him home the majority of my fear had waned, burying itself in my subconscious. I blame this lax state for the tension and later, physical violence we engaged in during that year.  

I hated the idea of him leaving and voiced this repeatedly. Eventually, he grew irritated at my whining. After our worst fight yet, leaving him with bruises and me an emotional mess, he disappeared unannounced. It was a week later he showed up, bruised further, his clothes torn irreparably. 

That day, when he walked into the house, all I could speak of was apologies. My will to resist had crumbled. To be alone again like that, located in this golden cage of his, was worse than death. I could handle it no longer. It was that point in time I began to blame his disappearances with my behavior. If I always did what I was told, he would come home and I wouldn’t have to be alone. I wouldn’t be abandoned. 

There was nothing worse than sitting in that house, alone. 

As I sit here, my head buried in-between my legs I find the guilt eating me alive with its oppressive, all-consuming hunger. Itachi is mad. Naruto was mad. Itachi is still hurt and he almost killed Naruto. 

Everything is my fault. 

I chose to communicate with Naruto instead of telling Itachi about the note. I chose to fantasize what a life outside these walls would be like. I chose to encourage Naruto, to ask him to come. It was my fault he almost died. 

Itachi had every right to be mad. He is still mad. Sitting on the kitchen chair probably, staring at the wall with his eyes empty and his muscles taunt with the need to move, to do something. He won't try and get me to come out. I know better than that. He will wait. Itachi is patient, eternally so. He will wait me out until my guilt has me groveling. 

The thought of the inevitable outcome, of my lack of will to resist it, has me furious. My hands clamp around my neck, digging and pulling until I can feel the skin break. I have no control of anything.

Yet, should I have any? I ruin everything. Self-hatred fuels my fury. My anger sliding across all things Itachi in my heart; like oil and water. I cannot blame him. He is not at fault, I am. 

My head hits the back of the bathroom wall, exhaustion closing my eyes. I am so tired. Why did I try to fight for control, to do something. I wouldn’t get it. I have no choices, no actions that I can take that mean anything. Whenever I tried for anything not given already, someone gets hurt. I need to accept that—this house, these rules, Itachi—were all I would ever have. All I ever need.  

This illusion that I could function normally is just that; an illusion. It is time to let it go. 

I let the chuckle building in the back of my throat erupt out. It bounces around the bathroom walls before hitting me with its humorless mirth. The illusion would fade and with it my fear calmed. That is what I feared—is it not? To walk out these walls and find nothing is real.  

Master Sasori had asked me if I was scared of losing Itachi. He is not wrong. I was then and even more so now. I always have been and always will be. Itachi is etched into my very soul.

I tried once, years past when adolescence gave me courage, to leave. The plan had failed miserably. My back pressed firm against his chest, he held me there, whispering in my ear. _“Where would you go, Sasuke? Would you run from me? Do you think I wouldn’t find you? I will always find you._ ” 

I may fight the strings but they will not break. They are the color of fate and tied with our blood. I cannot escape and this, I have accepted. I understand I need a master to pull my strings yet, I do not fear for Itachi’s death. The idea had always seemed ludicrous. That somehow Itachi would not return, that he would die and thus, leave me motionless.  

No, it is not his death I truly fear but rather his unfaltering understanding of me. I fear that he is right. That beyond these walls is a world that doesn't want me. A world full of people who want to use me.

He has told me all my life I will hurt those I meet. That I am only safe with him, who knows me better than I know myself. I need not fear with him for he is stronger than me. I can not hurt him. That all I need is him and this house.

I let my head relax, feel the cold tile as it connects with the back wall. My eyes flutter shut, the images I fought desperately to bury, come pounding against me like bricks.  

Back after days away Itachi seated at the kitchen table, his arms kept constantly at his side to hide the bruises peaking out from beneath his sleeves. He didn’t want to me see so I pretended I didn’t. I have always been good at lying to myself. 

After four nights and three days of absence Itachi promises me the day only to fall asleep on the couch, his book fallen from hands to his lap. His hair, falling out so gracefully it almost looks posed for a painting. I stared at him for three hours then, just to make sure he was really there. My fingers had ached to touch him but I wouldn’t—couldn’t because too many times he hadn’t been real. So I sat there--waiting. In a way, I still am. 

Itachi’s hair spilling over the side of the pillow. Peaking out from underneath the bed covers I watch the rise and fall of his chest. Memorize the shape, the look, but mostly the scars scattered across his perfect skin. That night, high on our lovemaking, I braved tracing them. My finger followed each line, each bullet wound. I hadn’t asked where he got them. I felt if I had spoken, voice aloud my worries and fear, it would break the spell that hung over us. The same sweet seduction that wafted through the air we breathed, promising, assuring that all was well. 

The memories refuse to stop until I am flat against the floor, my breathing raged, my heart a drum against my chest. 

Itachi. Itachi. Itachi. 

His name is a mantra against the dark. A promise that the door would open again, and with it, my light returned. I need that light right now. My hands shaking, I reach for the bathroom doorknob. 

His back is to me when I open the door. There is nothing to illuminate the room but still, I see him. His hair is a rare sheet of black down his back and no matter the desire, I can’t bring myself to touch it. To touch him.

So I sit behind him, inches away, not touching but close. Close enough I know he will be counting my breath. 

“Sasuke.” 

He says my name and my heart breaks, my guilt a throbbing stone in my stomach. I choke back the tears that hold my breath hostage. 

“I am not angry.” 

I manage to banish the tears yet my feeble attempts to speak come fumbling out in a wordless whimper. 

“Sasuke, please, come here.” 

I cannot deny him. I never have, not really. I try but always, always, I cannot resist. My shuffling knees as I crawl toward him are an echo; a precluding tremor of unease. His eyes follow my movements until they stop, traveling—searching, across my arms and face. He will see the scratches along my wrists, along my neck. I cannot hide anything from him. He knows me intimately and completely, having shaped me in all that I am. 

“Itachi I—” 

He stops my apology before it begins, his finger pressing against my lips. His eyes are dark holes, swallowing my will to so much as think as they hold me there, frozen against his touch. 

“Sasuke, your apology would be redundant. You acted on my behalf. Though I do not share your confidence that this was best, I understand the desire behind your decision. I understand that you blame yourself for all of this.” 

He must have trusted I would say nothing in protest for his hands immediately slide along my jawline, cupping my cheek. I dare not move. Itachi did not fall back to such formal talk often but I knew when he did so, it was best to remain silent.  

“Will you stay here for me Sasuke, like this? Would you do that for me?” 

Suddenly he is there, the other me. Chuckling in his mania he stares at me over Itachi’s shoulder. His head cocks to one side, a trembling laugh etched into his taunt. “Have you not done that already? Stayed here every hour, every minute of every day? You are a good puppet after all. Can’t jumble up those puppet strings by moving on our own.” 

My attempts to banish the fake-me are useless and so I sit there, numb putty in my brother’s hands. He leans in, his lips a ghost of warmth against my own. He does not press the kiss, waiting patiently for my move. He will not pressure me. Yet, as so often, I feel as if I cannot resist his desire.  

My body falls towards his, all will to speak, communicate, melt away. I lean into him, my hands entangling themselves into his long hair. 

It is he who pulls away first. Hovering in front of me, his breath coating my damp lips. His forehead falls to my shoulder, nose tucked into my neck.  

“Have I…done this to you…Sasuke?” 

I forget to breath, shock freezing me solid.  

“You have injured yourself again. What do you imagine I am, Sasuke?” 

I try to speak, my mouth moving but in the end no sounds leaves. Itachi pulls up, his eyes close as his forehead falls to rest against my own. His voice is desperation, dragged and pulled so thin, I fear the smallest reaction will shatter us both. 

“I am nothing but a shell, filled entirely of your love. If that ends, what will be left behind? You and I are two halves of a soul, bound together eternally. Tell me Sasuke, do you find our bond to be a prison?” 

What did I say? The other me is laughing so loud I can’t hear myself think. Should I tell him how it is suffocating sometimes, stuck in this house week after week? I can't get the words off my tongue. Itachi is already spread so thin. I cannot tell him that, it would hurt him too much. Instead, I find my honesty laced with the lies I tell myself.

“Be it prison or paradise, brother, it is where I belong.” 

I feel his chuckle against my shoulder. Itachi? Laughing? I had no seen him to do that sense we children, sitting next to the pond out back. Pond? I blinked a few times, my heart lurching against my chest. We had a pond once? Was…I remembering out childhood with our parents? 

Itachi’s laugh fades to a sigh and I struggle to keep up, to get my mind to stop its panic. It is as if my mind is blacking everything out. What am I remembering? Itachi, before this house? My mother—Mikoto, had long black hair and deep black eyes like my own. Who was my father? I can't seem to remember. All I can think of now is red. The painting of the demon fox, the floor...Master Sasori.  

“Big brother,” I whisper, dread lacing every syllable. “Did I…kill…Master Sasori?” 

Itachi stiffens immediately, his head rising off my shoulder to catch my gaze. “Why would you think yourself responsible for his death?” 

“Because I remember it. I remember stabbing him and—and—hacking off his arm! It—” my hands impede themselves into my hair, the memories rushing to the forefront of my mid. “I _painted_ in his blood.” Panic has my eyes wide open, desperate to erase the memories. “Itachi, h-have I…killed anyone else?” 

I feel his arms encircle me, his familiar scent drawing my panicked mind back to the present. “No one else, Sasuke. You have killed no one else. Master Sasori was done in self-defense.” 

I whimper against him. He runs his hand down the back of my head, soothing me the best he knows how. I feel myself begin to relax. 

“Brother…will everything be okay?” 

“Everything will be fine. I will make sure of it.” 

My mind relaxes at his words, the memories falling back into what hole in my mind that rose from. My body unwinds with a deep sigh and I accept that indeed, here is where I belong. I know Itachi. I know this house, these four walls and the rules the govern it. If I left, I would know nothing. Not me. Not Itachi. Nothing.

I wouldn't be myself.

  

In the morning I wake to an empty bed and a warm breakfast. Itachi is gone, in his place a paper on the table, the ink still wet.   

_I will return in a few days. Please, wait for me._

 

My body falls numbly to the seat cushion. Across from me, the other me, the one that has no abandon--no fear--begins to laugh.

I don't try to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was less of a wait this time ha ha. Hopefully I can get the next chapter out soon. We will see. Holidays are coming up >_< Anywho, because this chapter is an interlude, it broke the pattern of POV's established up until now. So next chapter will resume the pattern with Itachi's POV. 
> 
> As always, thank you so so much for your comments and kudos. They really give me motivation to write more. I don't respond to all of them but I DO read them all. Often more than once.


	14. The Crow Cooperates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter. It has not been beta'd so if anyone sees a mistake please let m know so I can fix it. Thank you!

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN: A CROW COOPERATES**

* * *

 

There exists in my life only one lasting truth. Sasuke must be protected. This led me to hold our parents attention, despite his cravings for it. If I was enough Sasuke had no need to assist in the family business. He would be free from the stain of death. The truth of my life led me to accept Madara’s proposal and murder the clan. To accept deal after deal from the man. To protect Sasuke I filled his cage will all that he loved and locked the door. Forever. 

As I sit here beside the bed, watching the rise and fall of his chest, I find myself desolate. Indeed, I protected him from all those who wished him harm yet in the end, I failed. I did not protect him from himself. Or perhaps it was me who has been hurting him. If the sculpture breaks from its own weight is it not the artists fault? 

I let my mirthless chuckle slip into the silent room. It is a foreign sound to my ears. I have not laughed sense the years before Father placed a sword in my hand. Before I understood what I was, who I had no choice in becoming. 

My fingers ghost across the crown of Sasuke’s hair. My skin alights with the small touch. He does no stir in his sleep, leaving me the continued pleasure of watching him sleep. My doll, my sculpture. My heart. 

“I have no choice, do I little brother? I will have to make another deal with a demon. Perhaps this time, the price will be less.” 

One of these days, he will finish breaking. The cracks are there. Some visible, some too small, too delicate, to be seen. One day he will break and when he does, I will be here to pick up the pieces. For only I know how they fit together. 

“After all, we are two pieces of one soul. Without each other we are incomplete.” 

I lean down to kiss his forehead, lingering long enough to ensure the warmth of his skin remains on my lips. All be will be well. Tonight, I will push the final ball into action. The end is coming. 

 

I do not knock at Naruto’s door. Instead, I kick with my foot until it swings open. My gun loaded and raised, points across the room. There is no trace of Naruto left. It is as if he had not lived here at all. I will have to track him down. Where will he have gone? From what little information I have gathered thus far Naruto resides with his godfather uptown. It will take hours to reach him and if I did, what would come of it? His godfather is too heavily involved in the police to force myself into the home.    

No matter. If not this particular demon than the other will suffice. Though I know personally that this devil will demand a much heftier price.  

First, the office. I would need my key to his residence and a vehicle. Kakashi usually leaves one or two of them for me there. Arriving at the firm I find my office door open. My feet carry me into the room, halting in a sudden stop as I take in the scene before me. Irritation hits me first then a grudging respect for his cockroach like tenacity. Three things become abundantly clear. One, the gun in his hand is not for show. Two,  the stack of papers in his left hand have been obtained from my office. Three, Naruto Uzumaki has more reckless abandon than sense. 

“Are you going to shoot me Uzumaki?” 

He glares at me. “Sorry, can’t. Sasuke would miss you too much. Don’t see why but yeah.” Keeping his eyes on me, he shrugs his shoulder. “That’s a no go. I already told you that though. Your injury keep you from remembering now Uchiha?” 

I shake my head as I holster my own gun. There is no danger here. “Perhaps I desired your rendition of it not for my benefit but for your own.” I walk over to my desk, sitting myself in the familiar leather chair. The surface of the desk has been largely untouched. The pictures along the wall however, have been moved. I notice one missing.  

Naruto follows my thinking. He has already holstered his gun and moved to stand next to them. The glare he gives me nearly sends another chuckle escaping. “You get the real thing. I think you can spare a picture or two.” 

“No need to be so bitter Uzumaki. I warned you, did I not? You cannot have him.” 

“Yeah I get that.” He is a yard away from my desk when he tosses the stack of papers atop it. “Doesn’t mean I can’t protect him though. And that,” he points at the pile. “Is what wants to kill him right?” 

I look down the stack, recognizing it my compilation of information related to Pein. 

“If the police had this information they could have caught this guy. Why didn’t you hand it over?” 

I sigh, hands busy re-stacking the papers. “Pein is not an individual the police can, or would, handle. With so many of them  on his payroll they will not attempt his arrest.” 

Naruto shifts his weigh, impatience tensing his muscles. “He is the one who hurt you, isn’t he?” 

“His dogs actually, but essentially yes, he injured me.” I hold his attention with my own. “What is it you wish to do Uzumaki?” 

“Take him down.” I began a slow smile but his annoyed swearing cuts it short. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want him dead—I‘m not you. I just want him behind bars where he belongs.” 

“What makes you think he is alive?” 

He returns to his previous seat, crossing one leg over the other as he stares back at me. “You’re here aren’t you? I sure as hell wouldn’t leave Sasuke for anything less.” A fox indeed.  

“I am supposing then, that you wish for my assistance?” 

The smile he gives me reminds me far too much of a child getting his favorite toy back. “I figured this way, I won’t screw up your perfect plan and you won’t fuck with mine.” 

“Very astute Uzumaki but what makes you think I am willing to work with you?” 

His smile turns to a grin as his confidence grows, an action that insights mass irritation in me. “’Cause you are running out of time. How long will those painkillers work? And as much of a robot as you are, I doubt you can take him down alone with that leg.” 

I loathe to admit it but he is right. It would be much easier if he did the leg work. I will need another week before my injury is healed enough to hold up to my regular activity. “Very well then Uzumaki. Let us hear your plan.” 

“It’s simple. You show me the blue prints, I sneak in and injury him enough to hold him still until the police get there.” 

“Do you not imagine, that I would be a more effective, plausible, choice for his assassination attempt?” 

“You can’t move very good with that leg, remember?” 

My irriation has reached it’s peak. I stand up from my chair and move around it. Leaning against the back of my desk I show him that I can move perfectly fine. “Uzumaki, you asked me once to not underestimate you. I ask you do the same for me. I have been in this line of work for the majority of my life.” 

He stares at me for longer than necessary but in the end he frowns and nods his head. “Fine. But I get to see Sasuke after we are done.” 

I choose to ignore his demand. Seeing Sasuke was a debatable issue that could be addressed at a later time. “You mentioned the police. Have you made arrangements already?” 

He smiles lopsided at me, exposing his canines. “Yep! Old man Jiraiya has instructions to meet us at the mansion. I already talked him about all of this last night. We need to leave in a few minutes or the timing is going to be off.” He stands up and looks around. After a second sweep of the room he focuses back at me. “What I can’t figure out is where you hid your guns and stuff. You have to have some in here.” 

“Oh? Do I?” 

He frowns. “Of course. It is the only room in building with a lock like that. So where they at?” 

“Really Uzumaki, do believe in the first illusion that easily?” I push off of the desk and leave the room. He mutters some choice insults before he falling in behind me. His ignorance calms my irritation. He may be a fox but he will not ever out maneuver the crow. 

He follows me to Kakashi’s office. I pull at the mask and the bookcase slides back into the wall. Naruto watches with a low key whistle. “That is so cool!” He stops for moment, shuts his mouth and glares at me again. “I still hate you though.” 

“Have no fear Uzumaki, the feeling is mutual.” 

Along side the walls are my collection of emergency weaponry. It is a modest stock. Primarily hand pistols and silencers. A few smoke bombs and a SKS as a last resort. I pull down the SKS, pulling it over my shoulder. Beside me Naruto reaches out and handles each gun for a moment before placing it back. He finally settles on one, screwing a silencer to the end of it. I follow suit with the two pistols I have chosen for myself.  

He gives me that lopsided grin of his. “Ready to go take down a crime lord?” 

I cannot help but shake my head. “You seem prone to forget Uzumaki, what I do for a living.” I leave him there, frustrated and embarrassed as I leave the room.  

He catches up with me quickly, seemingly over his floundering embarrassment. “How many have you taken down? Two? Three? Six?”  

“Are you implying Konoha police have no ability, Uzumaki? You make our city into a den of rats.” 

He has the courtesy to blush. “Hey, you never know.” His feet slow down. I don’t bother stopping until I am at the front doors, my hand pressing the glass until the night air blows in at me. Uzumaki looks at me from down the hall. “Uchiha, why are you letting me come along? It’s like you said. You could do this alone. Yeah it’d be harder but you could do it.” 

At least he is smart enough to ask. I let the door shut again, turning my body to face his. “You are the lesser of two evils Uzumaki, nothing more. If I am to shake hands with evil I would rather it be in the form of a demon than a devil. Now if you please, I would like to get this over with. Sasuke is waiting for me.” 

As I knew it would, my last comment sends all thoughts of me gone, leading Uzumaki into a cursing rage. In the end, we take a taxi to the edge of Waterfall Villa’s; neither of us trusted each other to drive.  

 

I direct Uzumaki to the edge of the manor grounds. Far enough Pein will not notice a vehicle but close enough we can make the walk in reasonable time. My wound has not healed as much as I would have liked. As I had told Uzumaki however, it will not stop me from carrying out our plan. I have worked through such pain before.  

Pein’s mansion is a large western styled home with picture windows on every level and every side. At first glance it appears normal for the area and certainly a home built for pleasure not business. I know better. The building is layered, cement and brick, as my own home is. The windows are as well, bullet proof. A security system built and tailored by Pein himself would be in effect. Entering from two points would set the alarms off but leave Pein in question as which one was me. Uzumaki was expendable if need be. Sasuke need not know of his death, if today’s actions came to it. 

Uzumaki, having already agreed on our plan, voices no concern as we enter sepertly. Him, at the east end, me the north. The sitting room I enter is one of the few untouched from the previous fight between Pein and myself. I inch along the wall, running through the next door and the next until I have confirmed the absence of life. Even Pein’s dogs have disappeared. What is going on? 

Naruto, having circled the building as well, catches sight of me. He runs over, voicing my concerns for me. “What is going on? I didn’t hear a security bell. None of the camera’s seemed to be working either. I thought this guy was a crime lord or something?” 

“He is. I do not understand this behavior. Under usual circumstances he has the mansion on lock down. After my attempt on his life I would have thought he would have increased the security.” 

He frowns. “No kidding.”  

“It matters little at this point.” I push on ahead, climbing the stairs one at a time. The hallway we enter onto is split in two. I gesture for him to take the left, me the right. This is most unusual. Highly unlike Pein. What is going on? Perhaps he is waiting for me to come and finish the job. The very idea of it leaves me chilled. I walk on toward the back room and it’s large, oak doors that open to reveal a library. I almost drop my gun in surprise. Origami sculptures hang from the ceiling, leaving the room shadowed in a paper canopy. They have all been made by hand. Meticulous crafted to perfection. Konan’s work no doubt. A single painting hangs over the sole fireplace. A portrait of three young adults. I recognize the first two as Pein and Konan. The third, I assume is their dead companion. The one who dreamed up the Akatsuki Pein created.  

I wonder again, how important Konan had been to Pein. Is her death the reason for this lack of security? Lack of any and all aspects I have learned to anticipate from the man? Perhaps. I need to know, to understand. His fixation on Konan shadows my own singular obsession. The similarities ring far too close to heart for my state of mind. If someone had killed Sasuke like Kisame had done to Konan? I am chilled at the thought. 

Leaving the library behind I head back down the hall, running despite the ache in my leg. Pein must be there, the one room I have overlooked. Indeed, I am right and I find Pein in his office. No guns, no knives—nothing. He sits in his leather chair, lifeless. My instinct urges me to look for some weapon or trap that may be hidden. My eyes however, tell me that there is nothing to fear. He is there, sitting, looking out the window. His laboratory cloak and slacks are wrinkled and dirty. He smells as if he hasn’t moved sense I was last here. He doesn’t look at me, though I know he recognizes my footsteps. The barrel of my gun tips down. He is no threat. 

“Have you come to finish what you started Itachi?” He asks. 

I ignore the hollowness in his voice. It disturbs me. This is not the Pein that I have served a decade under. There is no confidence, no arrogance—no will to live, let alone conquer. I step forward, lifting my gun again to aim for his head. He turns around slowly in his chair until he is staring directly at the barrel. 

“Go ahead. I have little desire to live. Finish the destruction you started.” 

My finger begins to tighten on the trigger. “Why?” I cannot help but ask. It eats at me, his utter lack of desire to function. 

His lips slide in a humorless smile. “Why should I live? Konan is gone. My angel has already departed. There is no use for a God no one believes in.” When I don’t answer immediately he continues on. “You understand don’t you, Itachi? If your light disappeared, your world would be black, wouldn’t it?” He shakes his head. “You and I are a lot alike, Itachi. Perhaps you know what I have only recently figured out. He matters to you, doesn’t he?” 

“You do not need to hear my answer to know Pein.” 

He smiles faintly. “No, I suppose not. You always were so quick to rush back to him.” He smiles slows until it is a grim line. “Madara won’t let this go you know. He might not notice for a few years but when he does,” Pein sighs. “He will come for you.” 

“I know. I am ready.” 

“But are you? Can anyone be?” Pein pulls a drawer open to his left, reaching in to bring out a gun. I tighten my grip on the trigger. I will shoot before he does. Something in my however, whispears that the gun is not meant for me. “I have sent you all the information I have on him. I hope it is enough to stop him. Don’t let him destroy any more lives.” He locks eyes with me, a faint smile on his face. “Don’t be like me Itachi. Live.” He says nothing more, raises the pistol to his head then pulls the trigger. There is a resounding thump echoing around the room as falls to the desk, bleeding out atop a pile of pictures of his youth. 

Hearing the gunshot, Naruto enters the room, his attention quickly shifting from Pein’s still bleeding corpse then to me. He lowers gun as he walks over, still visually searching me for injuries. “I thought you weren’t going to kill him?” 

“I didn’t. He killed himself.” 

Naruto blinks a few times, confused. “Is that it then?” he asks, his voice almost disappointed. 

I pick myself up off the wall, shouldering my gun as I begin towards the door. “That is it.” 

He frowns. “That was really…quick. Not even that hard. I thought crime lords were supposed to be a challenge or something.” 

“You have watched too many drama’s Uzumaki. Murder is often quick. Especially if they kill themselves. All you have to do is watch.”  

 

The police arrive twenty minuets later. Ample enough time for me to slip a glove on and search Pein’s home. There is little of use to me. Some research data, a few names and places I was not aware belonged to Pein but most of it was information I already knew. I leave Naruto to handle the police. From the Mercedes, brought closer to the mansion by an eager Uzumaki, I watch him. He seems at home as he interacts with the old marshal. I suppose however, that is where he belongs; with the good side of the law. Not us. No, Sasuke and I belonged to the gray and black sections of life. We understood nothing else. Light, when it shone as bright as Uzumaki, burned people seeped in darkness. 

After some time Jiraiya walks over to me, a clipboard in hand. He hands it over wordlessly, his intense attention on me leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. What had Uzumaki told him? How much did he know? Not knowing ate at me. I sign the page proclaiming me as a witness in court, forcing myself to stare back at him. 

“Is there something else you need, Commissioner Sarutobi?” 

“No, not right now.” He switches focus, smiling down at his godson. “You hitching a ride back with me kid?” 

Naruto shakes his head. “Nah, I am goin’ get a ride back with Uchiha.” 

Sarutobi frowns, disliking the idea. “You sure?” 

“Yeah, he’s cool.” He grins back at Sarutobi. 

Cool. He called me cool. What game is he playing? He doesn’t like me anymore than I do him. He is up to something. I turn the Mercedes on and wait for him to finish talking. It does not take long. Naruto waves goodbye then hop’s in and buckles. No words are exchanged until we have left the manor roads and get onto the freeway. 

“So he is safe now, right?” 

“I am assuming you are speaking of Sasuke?” 

“Duh, who else? I don’t take crime lords down as a recreational hobby.” 

Naturally. Breaking and entering were more to his taste. “He is safe from Pein.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean? How many enemies do you have?” 

“I do believe you have met me. In face, as I recall, you stalked me for some time. How many do you believe I have?” 

“Good point. Okay so who’s next?” 

“Excuse me?” 

He makes an annoying, irritated sound. “Who else do we need to get? You’ve got to have a list.” 

My stomach tenses, the familiar sensation of frustration eating at my nerves. “Are you implying Uzumaki, that you intend to assist me until everyone on my ‘list’ as you so eloquently put it, have been handled?” 

“You left me no choice! If we don’t get them Sasuke will never get to leave.” 

It came back to Sasuke. Of course it did. “Why do you wish him to leave so badly? I have given you permission to meet with him, have I not?” 

“Its not the same Uchiha. I want him to experience life. He can’t do that stuck in that house. I’m not you.” 

“I am assuming you have an explanation to follow up with.” 

Naruto does not hesitate, his words lashing out like bullets. “You are selfish. You don’t ask Sasuke what he thinks is best. You chose for him. You always have. You don’t have his best interests in mind. You have yours. It doesn’t matter how much hell you put him through so long as its you who gets to walk in that door. You don’t love him. You love how he makes you feel. He is alive and caged to feed your ego.” 

My hands tighten against the steering wheel, my heart pounding angrily against my chest. Instinctively I want to banish his assumptions of me. Yet something in me, the same something that ushered my worries into an audible whisper that night with Sasuke, forces my barriers down. It holds my instinct at bay, the defensive shield that until now, have kept me from breaking each time Sasuke hurt himself. Each time he cried.  

“Selfish I may be Naruto, yet you are not so different than myself. Tell me, what did you see when you looked at Sasuke?” 

Perhaps it was admittance of guilt or the quiet, tiredness that crept into my voice, but Naruto’s anger dissipated. His lips relaxed, falling into a frown as his eyes closed. 

“Innocence.” 

So he did understand. “What do you image would happen to him if he was meant with scorn? Contempt? Betrayal?” 

I hear his breath suck in and I know he will be able to truly understand. How ironic that he, of all the individuals I have met, would be the one to understand my reasoning. “Sasuke has something so very few in this world have; a pure soul. The world would corrupt him and that, I cannot bear to witness.  Can you? Can you watch as his depth for love is questioned? As he is condemned for seeing the world in more than black or white? ” His breath becomes a shallow, angry thing. “Watch as that life steals each dream, each simple act of love and twists it until all he is forced to only see his faults? His shortcomings? Tell me Uzumaki, can you watch that? Can you watch him become ordinary?” 

He gives me no answer, his head turned towards the window, hand on his chin. Nothing more is said the remainder of the ride home.   

 

We park at the firm and much to my annoyance, Uzumaki begins walking toward my home. After his help with Pein I suppose he could see Sasuke for a little but not before I had a chance to speak with him alone. Sasuke was unstable last night. I need to ensure he has not remembered anything else. Uzumaki might not believe it but Sasuke would kill him if he had another fit. And his death would not be as easily glossed over as Sasori’s had been. 

As we turn the corner toward the house he begins talking again. “Hey you are going to let me in aren’—” Naruto stops talking immediately, his face ashen as he begins to swear. 

The door is open. The knob has been melted into a mushed pile of mush on the ground. A generous portion of the door is gone as well.  

Sasuke. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...don't kill me for the cliff hanger okay? I have said it before but this time I can assure you, I will have the next update in a weeks time. Just watch and see :D This time I will do it!
> 
> I always worry, as I place each consecutive chapter up, that I am not meeting expectations. :[ In the beginning, I had grand plans for Imperfection that I have only partially been able to accomplish. When I started this work I was not experienced enough to understand how to write well enough to meet the scope of the story. By the end of this, (we are only three chapter away from the end btw) I believe I have been able to reach the level I should have been when I started this. That said, I plan on doing a Q.A. at the very end to wrap up the plot points I was not able to make clear enough. So if you feel too confused, try to stick around and hopefully I can answer them at that point. I'd answer some now but it might spoil the remainder of the story ha ha...
> 
> Anyways, thank you as always for reading the story. An extra thank you for those who stuck around to read this author note. You are guys are extra awesome! See you in a week!


	15. A Snake Bites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST: I added more tags for a reason. This is a very adult, very dark, chapter that deals with some unsavory aspects of torture. If you are not comfortable with writing like that, skip this chapter. There is tagged content from start to finish. You can still figure out what happened by skipping this chapter and reading the summary that will be at the top of next weeks chapter.
> 
> YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED SO NO COMPLAINING!!
> 
> SECOND: Look! Look! I updated when I said I would :D :D Hope you enjoy it. As always, please let me know if you find any errors.

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN: A SNAKE BITES**

* * *

 

 When I heard of him I was seated on one of Jiraiya hideous orange sofas. My stopping by his home had been intended as a business visit but Jiraiya insisted on venting. In light of our history together I allowed the man to rant while I sat there, tea in hand. Really, he needed to start acting his age. If he couldn’t handle his godson he should have just sent him away. 

“So he asks me to pull up this file and I think to myself ‘really? He is taking advantage of my connections again. I hand him the stupid Uchiha file but I make him promise that it will—“ 

My eyes widen as the name innocently leaves his lips. “Stop.” I interrupt. “What file did you pull up?” Perhaps I had heard the name wrong.  

He looks offended but answers regardless. “Uchiha why does it matter?” 

Uchiha. There was no way. Could he really be in the city? I heard he died in the massacre all those years ago. With Madara’s involvement I hadn’t questioned the assured genocide. Had he been hiding beneath my nose this whole time? “Was the first name Itachi perhaps?” I ask lightly. 

“Sure but what does that have to do with anything? The guy is completely clean. Naruto is poking his head into a hornets nest. If Uchiha sues him I’m not saving his ass this time.” 

Oh ignorant, sweet Jiraiya, he was out of his league. Itachi was far from clean. He would be older now, twenty-three to be exact. The tea cup rattles in my hands as excitement takes hold of me. Itachi was alive. “Remind me, why is it your godson is investigating him?” 

“You weren’t listening to me again were you? That’s mean Orochimaru.” 

I set my tea cup back atop its saucer. “I would apologize Jiraiya but did you anticipate a different response from me?” 

He looks unhappy but does not contradict my question. “Naruto thinks Uchiha is up to something. Says he is hiding paintings or illegal valuables in his house.” 

Painting? No. I feel my tongue slide out to wet my lips in anticipation. Not something, someone. Itachi had saved him after all. What else would that child want to hide from me? He would be young, not yet of adult age. He would be perfect. 

“Where did you say your godson is staying?” 

\- - - -x- - - - 

I flip my phone open and begin dialing before I make it to the car waiting outside Jiraiya quaint office. “I have a job the both of you might be interested in. Meet me in the usual place.”  

The both of them are waiting in one of the private cafe boothes when I arrive. Kakuzu had ordered nothing. He looked the same as he had before; covered from head to foot in ugly black fabric. In comparison Hidan had several plates in front of him, a spoon shoveling food into his mouth. He hadn’t bothered to dress for the occasion, wearing only black sweatpants. How vulgar. 

“What is the job?” Kakuzu asked, his question coming before I had the opportunity to sit down. 

I sat down, ordered my drink then gave Kakuzu a light smile. “Do you know of Uchiha Itachi?” 

Hidan looked up at the name. Swallowing he hastily opened his mouth. “That freak? Yeah we have worked with him a few times.” 

“Are you aware of where he lives?” 

“No.” Kakuzu said simply. “We never cared to find out. Even we had, I doubt we’d be able to. The man is a ghost. Why, what do you need us to do?” 

My tea arrived. It is not quite what I had anticipated but enjoyable none the less. I sip at it for a moment or two before answering, enjoying the quick impatience Hidan is showing. “Within his home is an individual I wish to have brought to me. He will be a teenager resembling Itachi himself. Simply bring him to this address and the money is yours.” 

“How much are you paying? We aren’t pissing Uchiha off for cheap. He is not someone I want as an enemy.” 

Indeed, Itachi was a dangerous man. I said nothing, clicking my fingers instead. Kabuto moved at my side, lifting a large black suitcase to the table. With a soft click the briefcase opened to reveal deep stacks of green bills inside. 

“I know you would want an accurate number so I have included the sum total on the paper here,” I slide him a note card. 

Hidan swore a few times before laughing. I have managed to catch Kakuzu attention now. He said nothing for sometime, prompting me to add to the deal. “I am not aware of what safeguards Itachi has placed around his home or how difficult it will be to apprehend the boy himself.” 

Kakuzu switched his attention from me to the money a few times. In a way it is a compliment to Itachi that he was deliberating on whether to accept the job or not. The boy had clearly made himself even more capable than he had last time we had spoken. Though it was to be expected. After all, I had been over a decade.

After several minuets have passed Kakazu focused his attention solely on me. “Alright we will do it. Where do you want me to take him?” 

“There is a large warehouse east of the docks.” I lifted my hand, signaling for Kabuto to place the keys next to the briefcase. “This will get you in. Take him to the basement and place him in one of the cells there. I will come when I can.” 

I stood up, made my way most of the way to the door when a thought occurred to me. I stopped, my head inclining in their direction. “Oh and Kakuzu, he must be alive.” 

\- - - -x- - - - 

I got the call two weeks later. A simple three worded report. It is done. I did not require anything lavish or complicated however. It was of course, thrilling. I had been close once before. Over a decade now. They slipped through my fingers then but they wouldn’t now. No, now I had the last little puzzle piece I needed.

When I arrived at the warehouse Kakazu and Hidan were waiting by the entrance. Hidan was digging at several festering wounds in his arms but was otherwise unscathed. Kakuzu had his arm in a sling and what little I could see of his face had begun showing the first signs of bruising. Interesting. Was this the handiwork of Sasuke? 

“Where is he?” 

They both looked up at me. Hidan began laughing; a horrible, obnoxious sound. Kakazu pulled away from the wall he had been leaning against and walked up to me. “In the basement laboratory table. We had to secure him down to get the kid to stop fighting.” 

“Is that where Hidan acquired his wounds?” 

“No. We got the address from Pein but when we arrived the place was locked down pretty tight. Had to wait a week until Itachi left. He was injured from something, not sure what. Once he was gone we moved in on the house. Had to melt the door down, no other way to get inside. The kid attacked right away, getting Kakuzu in the arms with some throwing knives. He put up a decent fight but,” he shrugged. “We got him in the end.” 

“As I can see. Is he unharmed?” 

Kakuzu got a zealous look in his eyes as he answered me. “Yeah, figured you wouldn’t want any bruises. Don’t know what it is with those Uchiha’s but the kid gots’ looks. He’d sell for a great deal.” 

Excellent. I knew there was a reason I enjoyed working with Kakuzu. Reaching into my pocket I retrieved a small business card. “I have already transfered the money to your account however,” I held the card out to him. “I understand you like verification. Here is the account number for both your account and mine, showing the transaction.” 

Kakuzu took the card, glanced over it a few moments before sliding it in his pocket. “Always a pleasure Orochimaru.” He brought a hand up to beckon Hidan behind him. “Come on Hidan, we are leaving.” His partner stopped his grotesque self-harm to follow, stopping for a brief moment to grin my way. “Enjoy your knew fuck-doll you old snake!” He proceeded to laugh loudly at his own joke. 

They didn’t understand a thing, which was a blessing. The money would be in the account but I doubt they would have much use for it. Itachi would find them first. How long did I have before he found me? Several hours perhaps? Half a day? I couldn’t stop my wide grin. Who knew. It was half the fun to wait and find out. 

The room Kakuzu placed Sasuke in his one of many holding cells. The walls and floor are cement, stained with age and use. A few cabinets have been placed to one wall while a large patient table, chair and equipment tray take up the other wall. Everything in the room appeared mundane and unsightly compared to the younger Uchiha.

He is older than I would have guessed, a late teen. Kakuzu had indeed, shackled both ankles and wrists to the table. He had failed however, to mention the blue gag they placed in his mouth. Or the velvet red tie covering his eyes. Most certainly they had left such details unmentioned on purpose. After all, they had removed all his clothing as well. Hidan's comment came back to me. It appeared they believed the easiest of rumors concerning myself. Not that the rumors were all that factual. I could not deny that the sight of him bare and restricted in such a manner left me aching.  I however, had restraint.

Upon hearing the click of my shoes against the cement he thrashed about atop the table, pulling against his restraints. The steel shackles pulled and chaffed his ankles, tearing the sensitive skin until I could see droplets of blood forming at their base. As soon as I removed the gagging cloth he spit at me. 

“Who’s there?”  

I chuckled as I slide my fingers across his face. Even covered as he is there is no doubt of his exquisite beauty. Itachi has always been an angel of death—attractive as he was deadly. This child however, how had he turned out? Shaped by Itachi’s hand over the course of a decade. His body was nearly that of an adult. His muscles defined but not chiseled as they would become in a few years. He was perfect. 

“My name is not important. Tell me, how is Itachi faring?” 

He pulled his head away from my hand. “What do you want from my big brother?” 

“Big brother.” I was purring; I couldn’t help it. “Do you call him that often? I wonder Sasuke,” I pulled the office chair up to rest against the head of the bed, close enough that as I sit down I can still trail my fingers along each indent, each scar decorating of his body. “What he would pay to keep you safe.” 

He whipped his head around, frantically pulling against the restraints. “Leave him alone! He has been through enough!” 

“Oh? Has he?” My fingertips pressed against the dip of his collarbone, enjoying the soft, subtle shiver his body gave in response. “What has your darling, big, brother been through? Hmm? Worse than yourself perhaps?” 

Sasuke said nothing, tilting his head away from me. His bangs fell to cover his face, hiding all expression. My hands brushed against the smooth skin of his cheek as I tucked them away. He was shaking now from our contact. Considering his severely restricted physical contact, it was an expected response. Which of course, made my deliberate, gentle strokes across his body that much enjoyable to me.

“I would have imagined witnessing his slaughter of your family to outweigh most of the smaller, less traumatic experiences Itachi has been through. I am not you however and cannot accurately place value on such personal experiences. Please Sasuke, tell me, did hearing the dying screams of your mother affect you less, than say, his consensual intercourse with Madara?” 

Sasuke stared at me, his eyes widened to resemble holes. Clearly, he had heard nothing of either topics. Excellent. I stopped my fingertips from their exploration of his body, lifiting them instead to cup the side of his face. “I am dying from curiosity Sasuke. Won’t you give you an answer? Who has suffered more? The doll locked in its display case, or the fabricator who built it?” 

He merely whimpered in response, his eyes closed shut in torment. It appeared the foundation of my plan had been laid. I stood up from the chair. “I will leave you some time to think about it Sasuke. In the meantime, a few friends of mine will be along shortly to visit. If you decide you’d like to discuss your brother some more you may, at any point, tell them. They have been instructed to inform me of your renewed interest and that point, I will return.” I reached the door and, gently and carefully I began shutting it. “Until then Sasuke, I do hope you enjoy yourself. They aren’t your brother but they do try.” 

With the door firmly in place, and all noise thus protected from his hearing, I nodded to the guards to either side of me. “Sakon, Ukon if you would please show some attention to our new guest. If you require more assistance, feel free to call in a few others. Leave his face untouched however. No sense in damaging potential goods.” 

Both men sneer their agreement, disappearing behind the door. I stand there for a moment to appreciate the scream that follows.  I wonder how long it would take him to break. I suppose however, if I knew, that would take the fun out of it. Watching it happen, now that was entertainment. He didn’t need to be working by the end of it. Itachi was the objective after all. His doll could break. I didn’t need it if I could have him and have him I would. 

\- - - -x- - - - 

An hour passes by and he still hasn’t talked. Not so much as a whisper. Itachi’s little doll was holding up well despite the rough treatment my men had been giving him. I knew I was on a time clock however and if the boy hadn’t broken yet, I doubt he would within the day. It would seem I needed to personally speed the process up.

When I arrived at the cell Ukon was having his fun while Sakon provided more conventional means of torture; beatings, abusing, that sort of thing. Upon my entrance into the room both men stopped and pulled away, not caring to ensure Sasuke landed back on ground uninjured. He landed with a painful thump back atop the concrete. He laid there, staring back at me with such a depth of hate I found myself startling impressed. Not broken indeed. 

His spirit at least. The same could not be said for his body. He was bleeding in several places at this point. His knees and elbows appeared to have sustained least of it. His back had whip lashes that were bleeding but the majority of his blood originated from the torn skin beneath the shackles of his ankles and wrists. My men must have had fun dragging him around. 

“That is enough. You may both go.” The twins gave me a curt nod then left, Ukon still tying his pants back on. I waited for the cell door to bang shut before standing. 

From the floor, covered in semen, blood and vomit, he sneered up at me. True to my order Sasuke’s face was untouched.  

“What, you going to rape me too?” he demanded. Not asks because his tone implied he believed it would happen. 

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I get very little pleasure out of rape Sasuke, so no thank you. If you are however, offering consensually, I would not mind obliging.” I walked to the cabinets against the wall, sliding open a drawer. Inside sat a neat stack of white towels. I pulled a few out and walked over to him. He didn’t move as I approached, not even a fraction. Whether it was from the pain or pride I was not entirely sure. Either way, it pleased me. Dolls that broke too quickly were no fun to play with. “As I said before, I have no intention of assaulting you. I am only offering to help you clean up. Unless of course, you prefer being covered in cum and blood?” 

He didn’t move or voice objections so I took his silence for consent. I reached out and began wiping up the majority of the blood.  

“Kabuto will be coming along shortly. What he does here, is your choice.” I began wiping around his ankles and wrists. “You can decide that you will cooperate, by telling me Itachi’s likely location or information concerning his work outside the law firm, and Kabuto will bandage your wounds up.” I smiled at him. “Or you can refuse and he will get to have his turn. Kabuto prefers the more conveniently methods of torture. Pulling nails out, cutting ligaments, that sort of thing.” 

I watched his jaw clench tighter with each method I mentioned. I stood up, leaving the now red towel at his feet. “I admit I would hate to see your body damaged by his methods. You are a beautiful child after all. So if you would like, I can continue our discussion where we left off. Perhaps it will spark some memories.” I sat back down atop my stool. “Tell me Sasuke, what do you know of your brother’s work? And we both know I am not speaking of his law firm.” 

His eyebrows furrowed together in the same movement he attempted to keep his lips a neutral thin line. His poker face was dreadful. “He helps people. Sometimes that means he has to kill.” 

He knew more than I would have initially thought. “The people he helps, who do you think they are? Hmm?” 

“I-I dunno.” 

He was being honest. It appeared Itachi had been very adept at hiding his dirty work. I would get no information out of him. Pein was not hard to find. I knew where he lived but if he was handing out the Uchiha’s home address than he had already been targeted by Itachi. He would be of no help anymore. Besides, there was a bigger rat behind all of this. Madara. I had never met him but I knew Itachi had. If I wanted Itachi, oh how I did, I would have to get rid of the bigger rat sooner rather than later. I did not share. Where to progress from here however? Sasuke knew nothing. 

“I see. Well then. What use are you to me then?” 

He immediately attempted to stand, the recoil of pulling steel against steel had him rebounding off the chain and back to the ground. “I gave you everything I know! Itachi has been through enough! Please, stay away from him. Please.” His body slumped forward, his will to fight draining. “I will do it. Whatever you need. Just…stay away from him.” 

He was breaking. Why? Why now? One would think the rape and beatings before this would have broken him. Was it the lack of hope? How interesting.  

I stood up from my stool, carefully controlling my footsteps to echo throughout the room as I approached him. I leaned over his shoulder, my breath even, voice low. “Sasuke,” my mouth was next to his ears now. “What has Itachi,” I drag out the name, syllable by syllable. I feel him shiver beneath me. “Done for you to deserve this…devotion?”  

“Is it because of the cage he built to make love to you in? The locks he placed so no one could see you? To touch you?” The shivers have taken hold of him completely, sending his body into uncontrolled shakes. I almost have him now. “Did it help you hmmm? When he commanded you to live for him?” He began trembling further until his whole body shook back and for. He brought both his hands to cover his ears, physically trying to deny my voice. Oh yes, this was perfect. “Or perhaps locking  you in that house for days wihtout end—all alone in that golden cage of his? Did that help, when he told you all of this was for you?” 

I finished my circling, leaning down in front of him. I placed my hands on either side of his head, forcing his dilated eyes to look into mine. “If you are breathing because he told you to, are you alive at all? No,” I smiled at him, slow and steady. “I don’t think so. You are not a human at all. Just a doll.”  

He began hyperventilating. I leaned forward, eager to continue forcing his memories to resurface when I felt his hands reach out to grab my shoulder. He had me thrown across the room before I realized what had transpired. 

I was coughing, my back against the cell wall, my head throbbing painfully. I blinked a few times as I stood, hurrying out of his reach. He didn’t seem phased by the shackles, pulling relentlessly against them in his eagerness to get to me.  Such violence! Perhaps keeping Sasuke around would be beneficial. He may serve a purpose yet.  

I flipped my phone out, dialing Kabuto. “Gather the men in the Pit. No, ten or so will do. No need for more yet. Why? I want to see how Sasuke handles himself. Some entertainment for tonight if you will.” 

 

My fingers dug into the padded chair, breaking open the velvet fabric beneath them. My smile could not be contained by my face. Six men. Six trained guards in  less than five minuets. That was before Kabuto handed him the knives. Now that had been entertainment! Twelve men had stood no chance. He was not Itachi but most certainly Fugaku’s child. He far outclassed any of my current men. I had not dared to hope of such potential. He was not as skilled as his brother but most certainly worth watching. 

“Kabuto, has he calmed down?” I ask over the intercom.  

Kabuto is standing just inside the Pit, away from Sasuke at the other end. He presses the receiver button. “It appears so. Would like me to retrieve him Master Orochimaru?” 

“Yes. Have him cleaned and dressed then sent to my room.” 

At the sound of the doorknob turning I sat up, off the bed. Anticipation had my fingers knitting themselves together. Sasuke entered the room, his hands cuffed, his eyes blindfolded. Kabuto lead him next to my chair by the fireplace, stopping a few feet from myself. A pair of tailored black slacks and fitting lavender button-up hide the bruising and minor injuries marking Sasuke’s body. The attire had been Kaubto’s choice no doubt.  

“You may leave Kabuto.” 

He stares at me for a moment, blankly sending his disapproval of such an action, before finally nodding slowly. The door clicked shut behind him.  

I reached up removing his blindfold. “Sasuke, please, sit.” 

With his blindfold removed he sat himself atop the velvet chair. His eyes looked blank, his mouth parted just enough to show mental absence.  Kabuto must have given him a sedative. He was always good at thinking ahead. 

I reached out, my hands brushing against his. His eyes moved towards the source of the movement, eyebrows furrowing together in bewilderment. He said nothing. 

“Sasuke. I have an offer for you. I will not seek Itachi out, “ at his brothers name Sasuke’s eyes gathered a spark of interest. “If you are willing to be his substitute in all that I require.” I turned the key inside his cuffs, clicking them open to fall loudly to the ground. Sasuke said nothing for a moment before he nodded, rising to begin undoing the buttons on his shirt. I did nothing to hold back my shiver of delight. Excellent. With his shirt off, I led him to the bed.  

I had said it before had I not? I cared not for what remained of Itachi’s doll. If it broke, then so be it. I would have fun with the princess before his knight came to the rescue. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? Hopefully I didn't disappoint. Orochimaru is a character that can be made out to be really, really evil and sick. In this story I definitely did that, but out of neccesasity. He needed to break Sasuke. Please bear with me >.< I would really appreciate knowing what you guys thought of the chapter so please, if you have the time, leave a comment. 
> 
> Thank you so, so much for seeing this through to the end with me.


	16. A Crow Retaliates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No more tags were added this time. It's still explicit, its still murder and pyschological torture. So yeah, no changes there. Though Itachi swears so maybe I need to add another tag? Anyways, on to the chapter. Just one more left after this!

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN: A CROW RETALIATES**

* * *

 

They have taken Sasuke. The fact won’t settle in me, I stand there admist the wreckage of Sasuke’s studio, paralyzed in fear. They have taken my brother. How could they? Who? When? How?  

My vision begins to blur, panic settling in above the fear. I have to get him back. I won’t let anything happen. I can’t. He is mine. Mine to protect. I can’t let anything happen to him.  

_They have taken Sasuke._

My fear and panic began to sharpen into anger. Whoever has taken him would die slowly.  

“Itachi, Sauke's gone. What do we do? Do...do you think Orochimaru took him?” 

Orochimaru. That would make sense. Of course it was the snake who finally found us. I had dismissed him the last few years, assuming he had believed the fabrication of our deaths. It had worked for a decade, what had changed? How had he found us? 

“The ugly, twisted, snake freak. He always seemed like such a pervert,” Naruto mutters. 

How had he found us? Unless...the only lead I had left unattended. Naruto. Naruto must have lead him straight to Sasuke.  

Twisting my feet, I twirl around to grab the idiot by his neck, pushing him up against the nearest wall. “Where is he?” I know my voice sounds like a knife. He will see the anger. I am right, he does. His face looks whiter than the wall I am holding him up against. “This is your fault. Yours. You did this to me. Did this to him.” I pull him away from the wall enough to make his head bang painfully when I slam him against it again. “If he hadn’t met you. If you hadn’t _corrupted_ him he would still be here, safe.” 

I have to calm down. Killing him will not bring my brother back. I let go, watching with satisfaction as he gasps for air. “We were perfect before you interfered. I had everything planned. It was flawless. Now,” I feel my voice begin to shake. “Now it is ruined.” 

He has more guts than I give him credit for. He explodes, going as far as to grab the front of my shirt in anger. “Do you think I don’t know that? Don’t assume you are the only one who cares for him.” 

His face is inches from mine. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face, his clear blue eyes bloodshot.  

“I have never assumed I am the only one who cares for him.” I grab his wrists, twisting myself free. “Only that I am the one who cares the most. Where is he?”

Naruto rubs at his neck, scowling. "How should I know? You're the paranoid criminal. Don't you?" 

If I knew, why would I ask? I am wasting my time with this idiot. If he doesn't know where I can find Orochimaru I will look on my own. I know a little about the man, I will start there. In brisk steps I stalk up the stairs and over to my office door. Pulling the small selection of keys off my neck I thrust one in. After hearing the click of mechanism unlocking I remove the key and walk in.  

LED light strips highlight my collection, spraying white glow over the guns, the silencers, the rifles—the weapons of my trade. Everything has a place and it is held here, captive and secured; waiting. Like Sasuke was supposed to have been.  

The computer lights up as I swipe across it. Files spring up and I glance over them. Pein’s information he sent me is a simple coded algorithm. I have time to recognize what it is before the damage starts. I cannot stop it. The virus he handed me, eats away at the information until everything I have complied over a decade is gone. A message springs up onto the screen. Simple, elegant black fonts spells out his message to me: You took her from me. 

I hear Uzumaki behind me begin into a string of obscenities. He followed me after all, read the message no doubt.  

“Orochimaru had assistance it would seem.” My mouth is dry. How far ahead had Pein planted traps? Why hadn’t I foreseen this occurring? 

I turn around to find Naruto still mumbling as he slips on another holster for a pistol. He stops swearing long enough to frown at me. “What did you except? We are getting him back. To hell with Pein or the snake or whatever. Sasuke isn’t theirs.” 

But not yours either. The words aren’t spoken but they hang in the tense air between us. As all things connected to him it would seem I cannot deal with Uzumaki the way I would like. In time, I remind myself. In time.  

For now, the gun I brought to Pein’s would be insufficient. The DMR came off the wall first and into a holster. After checking the silencer I push the 45 colt into another followed by several grenades that go into a black pouch on my hip. The last weapon I retrieve I handle with reverence and affection; the katana my father gave me just hours before I killed him. 

“You are a member of Akatsuki?” 

I turn to see Naruto poking the black and red garment. He looks scared, as if the cloak would come alive and eat him. He looks at the guns along my walls, the small pile of grenades and C4. Then at the katana strapped to my waist before finally settling back at my face. “You helped me kill your own leader? How long have you been apart of them?” 

“You speak as if you didn’t know. How naive. I was one of the founding members.” 

It was about this time he began to look truly afraid. He must have heard of my organization then. We did tend to have a certain reputation about us.  

“No wonder you would come home covered in blood. Does Sasuke know?” 

“Of course not. He would not understand even if he did. It is irrelevant.” 

I leave the room, heading straight for the door, pausing only briefly at the dining room table. Would we be able to return to those days? 

We had to. Too much has been sacrificed for our goal to elude us.  

Naruto follows me out of my home, jogging to keep up with me. 

“Hey, where are we going?” 

“To get information. Backup. Whatever rock that snack crawled underneath will be infested with vermin. If you insist on following me, then shut up.” 

To my relief, he does.  

\- - - - -x- - - - -

Kakashi open's the door on the first ring. His eyes have dark circles underneath, his clothes wrinkled and faded. “You!” His eyes narrow, hand rising in anger towards me. It falters halfway through its arc, resting in midair as it shakes. Unable to hit me as he so desired to do, he resorts to swearing instead. “I half hoped you had bleed to death on your way home. Sasuke?” 

“He’s gone.” 

“What?” Kakashi moves to the side, allowing me to enter the home. It is quaint, dirty and covered in dog hair. How Kakashi like. He still has his hand on the door, grip tightening as he continues our conversation. “Was it Pein?” 

“No. Perhaps, some. It is hard to tell for certain. Pein is dead.”  

I take several steps into the home when Kakashi slams the door shut, strutting ahead to stand in my way. “Then who?” he demands, hands crossed across his chest. 

“Orochimaru.” 

His body relaxes, confusion softening his voice. “The Sound pharmacist tycoon?” 

"Either him or the Pein who died was yet another fake body." I walk around Kakashi toward the living room. Kisame is seating on the hideous orange couch, an absurdly fat pug on his lap. He smiles up at me. “Evening Mr. Itachi.” 

“Kisame, get your gun.” 

The pug jumps off his lap. “Oh? Which one?” 

“Both.” 

He laughs, standing up. “It is just as you said Mr. Itachi. I will always have fun with you around.” He disappears into a door down the hallway. 

While I conversed with Kisame, Kakashi has thrown a jacket over his rumpled dress shirt. “I am going with you.” He doesn’t phrase it as a question. 

“No. I need you to watch him,” I give a head nod toward the floor.  

He follows the motion to Naruto. The kid has knelt down, attempting to coax the pug into letting him pet him. Kakashi glares at me. “I am not baby sitting.” 

Naruto finally catches onto what we are talking about. He stands up quickly, already protesting. “What no! I am coming too.” 

I feel a headache begin between my eyes. “No, neither of you will be occupying me. Kisame and I will handle everything from here.”  

Kisame enters the living area, his hands full of two large bags. “Ready Mr. Itachi?” 

I nod. “We are leaving. Kakashi, keys.” 

Kakashi is swearing but does not try to follow, tossing me a set of silver keys. Naruto however, reaches out to grab my arm, as if to stop me. Moments after his hand closes around my arm, Kisame grips his wrist, twisting until he removes it. “Mr. Itachi doesn’t like getting touched. Okay kid?” He grins down at Naruto, letting go as soon as he nods in understanding. Good. If the kid will listen and stay, then perhaps things were looking up. Kisame follows me out the door. 

I barely make it down the driveway before Naruto shows up, panting from the pain of his wrist and exertion of his sprint. 

“Itachi!” 

I stop. Kisame buts his bags in the trunk, then climbs in the back.

“I’m coming with you. I want to save Sasuke. It’s my fault he got taken.” 

My eyes close, fleeting images of my brother flashing across. “Yes, this is your fault. That is exactly why you are not coming with me. You will make this worse.” 

“No, I mean, um.” I turn in time to watch him lick his lips. “I mean, this is really, directly, my fault.” 

I stopped walking. My hand fell to the hilt of my katana. “Explain.” 

He raise's a hand to rub at the back of his head. “I might have, um, I asked Old Man Jiraiya for your case file and um, told him about Sasuke…” 

My mind froze. “You did what?” 

“I was just trying to help! I needed information and it wasn’t like you were offering any up! I didn’t tell him much, just bits and pieces. Orochimaru is good friends with Jiraiya, he must have heard about you from him. I had do it okay? Sasuke needs to leave, you don’t get it. He needs that!”  

That explained everything. How Orochimaru had discovered us in the first place, how they found our home. So it was not Pein after all. I wish it had been.

“You are correct. This is your fault. Everything.” 

He gulps, his Adam’s apple quivering with the action. “A-Are you going to kill me?” 

“No.” That wouldn’t help, no matter how satisfying. “No, instead you will come and see what that choice has cost us all.” 

\- - - - -x- - - - -  

There was nothing in the first warehouse I knew Pein used or the second. By the fifth false lead I could feel my gut constrict, my palms sweating. This wasn’t working. I had tried to keep tabs on Orochimaru over the years. Unfortunately he was a true snake in all but name, crawling about in the pits of the underground, always slithering just out of reach. What would this time cost Sasuke? There had to be method to narrowing down the possibilities. I need to stop and think. I take a deep breath, calming my mind.  

Who would Orochimaru have hired to get him? The snake wouldn’t have moved on his own. So who? I knew so little about the man. He kept himself out in Sound, a country or two away from us. I was naive. I assumed in the end it would be Madara who demanded Sasuke, not Orochimaru. Not that I had any information on Madara either now; thanks to Pein’s virus. 

“Mr. Itachi I think we should stop for tea.” I turn around to stare at Kisame, ready to reprimand the man when I catch his smile. Tea. The gray room. How could I have forgotten? I pull out of the parking lot and turn left.

We drive for several minuets before I arrive at the quaint, mid-century cafe the underground refereed to as, ‘the gray room’. Naruto and Kisame follow me inside. The waitress minding the front begins to reprimand us when she falters, then shakes her head. “Who are you here to meet?” 

I am grateful for her intelligence. At the moment if she had attempted to apprehend us I wold have lost my fraying patience. “Orochimaru. Where is he?” 

She pales at his name. “I am afraid there is no—” 

Kisame interrupts her by pulling out his pistol. He smiles at her, pointing the barrel at her heart. “Mr. Itachi asked you a question. Why don’t you try answering again?” 

She gulps loudly, looking first at me then Kisame before settling to fixate on the gun. “H-He,” more gulping. “H-hasn’t been i-in f-for several days. The last I heard of him h-he was talking to t-two men.” 

“What did they look like?” I demand. 

“G-Gray hair and, and a b-big guy w-with lots of black coverings.” 

Kisame’s lips fall into a frown. “Hidan and Kakuzu. Well, I suppose with these gone Akatsuki will truly be dead.” 

The waitress begins sobbing at the mention of our organization.  

I reach down, pulling her up by the collar. “Get a hold of yourself. We have not finished talking. When was the last time you saw those men?” 

“N-now.” She whimpers out between sobs. 

I drop her, rushing into the dining portion of the building. Patrons are seated at enclosed sections, sipping tea and conversation as civilians do. I ignore them, heading straight for the back room. I push several doors open until finally I find them. I shoot Hidan in the chest as I soon as I open their door. The idiot falls off his cushion, clutching his chest as he fumbles with sort of medication. Across the table Kakuzu jumps back, his own gun drawn and pointed at me. 

“Where is he?” I demand. 

Kakuzu doesn’t need to ask who. “Itachi, you kill me and you won’t ever find the kid in time.” 

“You do not need to negotiate with me Kakuzu. If I believed I could find him on my own, you would be dead. Now, I believe I asked you a question.” 

Hidan on the floor groans, sitting himself up with a few of the cruder swear words. His medication, as genetically altered as he is, has already began closing his wounds. He looks at me first then Kisame. He grins. “I thought you were dead!” 

Kisame returns the grin. “Thought I’d try dying. You always said it was fun.” 

Hidan laughed. “It is , isn’t it?” He stands, dusting off his pants a bit. “So partner, what is our plan?” 

Kakuzu still hasn’t lowered his gun but he answers, his eyes flicking over to assess Hidan. He has blood on his chest but is otherwise unharmed. “We tell Itachi where we took his brother.” 

Hidan laughs. “I suppose we weren’t paid to keep it quiet huh?” The worst of the conversation over with, he sits himself back down at the table, resuming his dinner.  

Kakuzu lowers his gun a fraction, his body relaxing. “Orochimaru had us take him to the warehouse at the dock, number 31. The green one near the end of the second block.” 

“Who disclosed my address?” I asked but inside, I know the answer. 

Kakuzu doesn't bother hiding his sly grin. “Pein. We asked about you and he told us you’d gone rogue. Handed over your address and said to do our worst.” He must have seen the tension in my arms for he quickly adds, “Not that we did. You saw the place. Some broken furniture but your brother did worse to us than we did to him.” 

I believe that. Sasuke was highly trained, if not experienced. Still, it seemed Pein was attempting to lead me astray by his willingness to die. How much farther had his hands laid traps? I have no time to figure them out. I will have to deal with them as they appear. For now, I need to get to Sasuke. “If you are providing me false information, I will return for you Kakuzu.” 

“I have no reason to lie. As Hidan said, we weren’t paid to keep his location disclosed, just kidnap him.” 

Kidnap him. My Sasuke. I close my eyes, unable to keep the images of such abductions from playing in high detail. 

I turn around, hand tight against the hilt of my sword. “Kisame, kill them.” 

Kakuzu has time to begin a protest before he gets several bullets in his skull. Kisame’s gun is still smoking when Hidan manages to grab him in the middle, toppling the other man to the ground. Kisame does not falter for long however, grabbing Hidan by his hair and pulling him off enough to stick the gun barrel against his throat.

He shoots several times before letting go. Kisame pushes against his knee to resume standing, emptying his gun into Kakuzu’s corpse. Kakuzu was not as quick to spring back as Hidan but he was resilient enough on his own. With both of them, it was best to ensure they were actually dead. Satisfied Kisame holstered his gun and turned toward me. “Mr. Itachi you might—” 

I have knelt, picked up Hidan’s head drug my blade across his neck before Kisame finishes speaking. No longer needing to finish his sentence Kisame stops, his eyes following the rolling of Hidan’s head until it hits Kakuzu’s corpse. He gives one of his looks, the one that says he was enjoying himself too much to be a good thing. I apparently, had been demoted to entertainment tonight. In his defense I suppose he has yet to see me truly lose all patience. That would change tonight.  

We leave the bodies there in the Gray Room. The owners would know what to do with them; after all, this was not the first night a patron had been murdered. Naruto we find at the corner of the building, throwing up. He wipes his mouth, glancing up at us. His eyes speak of accusation and distrust. Both of which leave me feeling much better about myself. He was a good guy, I was not. That line needed to stay drawn. 

“Hey kid, you sick already?” Kisame laughs. “This ain’t nothing kid. If you plan on sticking around better mind that stomach.” Naruto has the decency to blush but offers no protest. He stands up, pushes back his hair and tries to smile reassuringly. It doesn’t work. 

“Get in the car, both of you. We have a location now.” 

  

The warehouse is big, enormous really. Kakuzu had called it green but the only tint to the cement is from the oceans spray. Large, stenciled numbers alongside one of the walls identified it as number 31. There are no windows in the building. Just two garage doors and three entrances. All of which are guarded. A dock hand would think nothing of the men loitering around by the vans but Kisame and I knew their kind. Guns would be kept out of sight but within reach. Our best option was the eastern door, closer to the shipping crate yard.  

In the car beside me Kisame is eager, his hands pulling on and off the trigger in a repeating show of excitement. He gives me a glance, sharpened teeth peeking over his lips. He gestures with his thumb to a door off to the side, the eastern entrance.

I dislike this. Every operation, every assignment, I have planned out. Accounted for every possible course of action. This time however, I have had no time to prepare. The risk and lack of control eat at me.  

My eyes close, the image of Sasuke at the table, hands together around a mug as he smiles shyly at me.  

Sasuke. 

They had taken Sasuke. 

“Show no mercy. I want every soul in that building dead. Spare no one.” 

Kisame laughs, his teeth shining daggers in the dark of the van. “With pleasure Mr. Itachi.” He picks up his tommy guns, one held on a hip, the other in a sling over his back. He slides the door of the car open then pulls a pistol out of his pocket.  

Behind him Naruto pales a bit, his eyes widening as he stares at me. He had not been there when Pein died. He had in fact, left the building before I decapitated Hidan. Perhaps now, the veil will be lifted. I dislike how he has begun to sneak glances at me. Ones filled with a sense of admiration, not hate. He needs to hate me. I deserve to be hated. 

Kisame starts toward the door, ducking behind each shipping crate until he reaches the intended entrance. Naruto and I follow behind arriving without incident. Kisame waits for me signal, 

“Oh and Kisame,” he looks back at me. “Leave Orochimaru to me. I want the pleasure of watching him die.” 

His grins widens to an impossible length. “Of course Mr. Itachi. Now, shall we?” 

My own smile slides on with ease. “Naturally.” 

We pull away from the shipping crate aiming at men around the entrance. The gun shots are fired in succession, one in each head. Behind me I know Naruto is there, his continuous stream of cursing gives him away. No matter. I have warned him I would not look out for him. He will have to manage protecting his own ass this time. We are there, melting the doorknob before they finish collapsing to the ground. 

Six men are seated at a card table when we enter. Kisame takes them out all in rapid succession, a bullet in each skull. I move on, letting him handle the next few pouring in from the room’s adjacent door. Naruto follows close behind me. His gun held at the ready. We get past another few guards and a staircase before he speaks. “Why aren’t you checking the rooms?” he has the audacity to sound angry. Idiot. This was all his fault to begin with.  

“Shut up.” I snap at him. His eyes widen. “I need the control room. Every second we waste is another second Sasuke is with that, that snake.” I spit out the word. Anger is coursing through my blood like fire. Naruto must have a sense of self-preservation after all for he utters not another word as we run down the hallways.

The lack of personal leaves me unsettled. Orochimaru would have known I was coming. He knew this little resistance would be nothing. What was wrong? Where had I miscalculated? My frustration seeped out in agitated sprints and shots. Several men I had to shoot twice to kill. Something was wrong and for all the brilliance I was supposed to have I could not figure out what. 

Naruto and I round another corner, jumping back behind it as several gun shots are fired in our direction. I toss my pistol on the ground and pull out another, fully loaded gun.  

“Itachi,” Naruto asks suddenly. I say nothing but the idiot keeps on talking. “Orochimaru knows we are here. He has to. So why would he just let us walk through this place?” 

Frustration has my teeth clenched, my answer pushed through them like moisture from sand. “He wants me alive and unharmed.” 

“W-what? Why?” 

For all the water in the ocean, did this kid just not get it? Where did his sharp, too-honest, too-smart perception disappear to? I turn  toward him, fury etched in the lines of my mouth. “For the same reason he wants Sasuke for. To fuck, to watch him kill—to play with.” 

Naruto pales, his eyes widening as my words sink in. 

Excellent. Maybe now we won’t have to waste anymore time. I pull out one of my shock grenades, throwing it around the corner. As soon as I hear it go off I am up and running into the room. For a reason I have no desire to explore, Naruto’s questions calmed my mind, allowed myself to think again. Orochimaru will have Sasuke somewhere guarded and out of the way. He will want to see me first.   

To my surprise Naruto takes out the first guard, a bullet shot to the chest. He gives me a side glance as the man falls. Was he seeking my approval? What a fool. I take out the second man before moving on to enter the door. Inside is a cement room with screens mounted in a rectangle formation. The man at the desk shoots at us. Having anticipated such a reaction I have ducked down and am rolling forward. In one motion my sword is drawn and sliced across his throat. He gurgles blood then falls in a heap. My fingers are tapping across the keyboard, pulling up each room in succession. It does not take me long to find him. 

Naruto has begun swearing again as he takes in the screen. He doesn’t look long before turning and kicking the dying man at his feet. Sasuke is in a cell. No padding, no comfort. Just him, naked and bleeding from the shackles along his wrists and ankles.  

I knew it. Damn it! I knew it! I knew this would happen.  

Naruto stops his pointless violence to run out the door. I leave him to it. I have no time to waste. Several panels over I see Orochimaru. He is alone in a laboratory room. He looks remarkably the same as he had all those years ago. No touch of grey in his hair, no signs of age on his face. There is no one in the room with him or either of the adjacent rooms. In fact, there is no one in any of the connecting hallways. What was going on? No matter. I had no choice at this point. Sasuke’s cell was locked. I needed the key. 

  

Orochimaru is exactly where I saw him on the screen. He is sitting atop a doctor’s stool, his pistol causally held in one hand. He smiles at me as I enter, making no motion to raise his gun. He just sits there, his feet propped up on the metal base above the chair’s rollers, smiling at me. “Good afternoon Itachi. Have you been having fun with my men?” 

“Not as much fun as I will be having with you.” I raise my gun, shooting him in the foot. He says nothing, staring at the foot as if its a foreign, unattached object. 

“I imagined such a reaction from you.” He shakes his head, as if I am an unfortunate child. “Really Itachi, all of this could have been avoided.” He stands up. “After all, I have been after you all this time. I have no need for your brother. You could have saved him a great deal of pain. Who knows what state he is in now. After I was done I handed him back to my men. They have always enjoyed themselves so,” he shrugs. “Who knows how he is now. I wonder if you can get to him in time?” 

I shoot his other foot twice. He just laughs. How can the pain unaffect him so much?  

“I will have you know, I am very impressed. He has exceeded my expectations in all regards. If I didn’t know you like I do, I would have been more than satisfied with him.” He takes a step toward me. “He is an excellent fighter and the daggers,” he gives a sick, small smile. As if sharing a secret with a confidant. “They were an excellent choice to teach him. His is very gifted.”  

He has stopped in front of me completely now. We are mere inches apart. “Yet, you knew all of this didn’t you? Knew how skilled he has become. But did you know,” he leans forward, his mouth a ghost warmth against my ear. “He yells your name. He screams it. Begging me to spare you. He had done his best to please me, begging, pleading, that I leave you alone.” He pulls away, shaking his head and chuckling. “He kept telling me he would do better, do anything, if I would simply leave you alone.” 

I am frozen. My mind, always active—always steps ahead of everyone I have met—cannot think. I can imagine it all now. Sasuke pleading for my life to be spared. To be left alone. How many has he killed now? How much blood has stained those hands? Does he count their deaths, as I once had? Can he picture their faces as he closes his eyes? Can he feel the breath of his assailants as they hold him down for the others? How many hands have taken advantage of him? How…. 

How could I have let this happen? He was to be free of this. He was too good for this world. Far too good. 

“Were you wanting this?” Orochimaru asks and I look down to see an iron key in his hands. He catches my interest and that sick, pleased smile, returns. “Gone on, take it. Go rescue your princess. Can’t say I haven’t enjoyed our game. I do wish we could have played longer.” 

He is too close to shoot or slice with my blade. I reach up, hand closing around the key and step back. He laughs, opens his arms wide and laughs. I slice his arm off first then the other. He dies laughing and I know as I stand there, staring at his bleeding corpse, that his laughter will haunt me for remainder of my life. 

Kisame finds me seconds later, running into the room with his tommy gun held ready. Seeing Orochimaru’s corpse he lowers the gun, a twitch of his lips giving away his disgust. He takes one look at my face and understands all. “Little Sasuke will be okay Mr. Itachi. He has you. Don’t give up on him.” 

I nod, too tightly wound to trust my mouth to speak. Something nags at me, reminding me that there is always more to a plan than what first appears. More layers to every illusion. Yet, like with Pein, I cannot bring myself to figure out what is wrong. 

Kisame taps his boot against the doorway, drawing my attention back to him. “I finished cleaning up downstairs but I found a staircase in one of the doors. He’s got to be in the basement below. Let’s go get little Sasuke.”  

  

The staircase leads to a dim hallway with cells on either side. I glance in each only long enough to verify none of the sorry individuals look like Sasuke. We walk for several minuets this way. No guard comes running in. No scientists, no one. Where had everyone gone to?  

“Kisame, did you kill everyone above us?” 

“Yeah, cleaned house. You think this is a set-up?” 

“Yes.” 

He says nothing else.

At the end of the hallway is a large, double door, steel monstrosity. Kisame sets his gun down, ready to forcibly push it open, when I notice a dark red liquid trickling below the doors.

“Wait,” I call out. Kisame stops mid run and watches as I place two hands on the door and push. They swing open freely. Inside, the floor is red. Carved remains of what were once Orochimaru’s men take up a large corner. They must have fled to the corner to become piled as they are.  

Standing there, as if home and happy amidst gore and violence, is the only man I ever truly feared. He is standing next to it all, long black and red coat billowing out behind him as he swings his sword through the carnage. Behind me I hear Naruto begin vomiting again. Kisame is not laughing. He shouldn’t be. Fear, the short of fear that is established so early in your life, it is carved into your very bones. Wired into your brain, into your instincts so surely, there is no ability to change it. That fear, seizes a hold of me. 

He turns his head in our direction, his black hair grown so long the end has been dyed red from the liquid that coats the floor. He turns. I see the tip of his lips first, subtle and crooked, as he finishes his movement then all I can see is his eyes. Black like the water of a tainted well. They are gleaming which is never a good sign. I learned years ago that when he looked at me like that nothing good would come of it. Only pain. 

“Itachi!” He takes a step forward, the sound of his boots hiding the floor is an echo around the bleak room. He gestures with his sword around, as if showing off a particularly funny joke he just discovered. “I took the liberty of cleaning up for you. Didn’t realize you needed it until Pein gives me call, telling me to come down and see you.”

He stops a yard away. “And here I went to all that trouble building you the perfect cage.”  He gives Naruto a shake of his head. “Couldn’t keep the cat inside and the fox out huh? I taught you better than that.” He takes a step closer to me and involuntary my feet scoot backwards. “Oh?” Madara notices. He notices everything. “Your body remembers what its like disappointing me. Doesn’t it, I-ta-chi.” He is still smiling and for all the fire running through  my veins I cannot bring myself to react, too move. Not with him.  

Not with Madara. 

“Where is Sasuke?” I ask, my voice flat, hollow. Weak. 

“Your little brother?” He flicks his head backward, to the corner where a lone, cement walled, cell awaits. “In there. He looks pretty broken though. Not sure if he will work right anymore.” 

Work right. Like he was a doll—a toy. He wasn’t either.  

Right? 

I swallow hard, forcing my fear back down. “If you will excuse me, I need to retrieve him.” I lean down, not a proper bow but still a sign of respect, deference. 

It wasn’t enough for him. 

He reaches down, gripping my chin with his thumb and forefinger, he pulls me up toward him until his lips are hovering atop my ear. “I know what you have done Itachi. You killed my dolls. I should kill yours.” My fingers tighten around the leather of my katana hilt. I feel the heat of his laugh across my cheek. “Don’t worry—I won’t. I know how to let go. I wonder though, do you?”

He pulls back before I can respond. His black eyes hold me glued to the floor as they taunt me. Weak Itachi. Not good enough. Not this time, not ever. Then his eyes move, his body turns away and all built up energy vanishes from me. 

He walks toward the door, closer to the others. “Good to see you as always Kisame. Taking good care of our boy here?” 

Kisame nods his head, all deference and respect. I bite back the emotional bile rising in my throat. Kisame had always been Madara’s sword, not mine. No matter how it has seemed at times. One more thing I forgot. 

“Good, good. Keep at it.” He slides his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, takes a few more steps then stops again. What did he want to say to Naruto? The unexpected wheel in his master plan. 

“I’d say hello to you little kit but that would imply you are going to stick around. I know you won’t. You are smarter than that.” 

Naruto wisely says nothing. Doesn’t even look at Madara, focuses on his blood stained tennis shoes instead. This of course, is a all big joke to him and Madara laughs. The sound of his amusement sends my stomach into knots.  

Madara says nothing more. He walks out and only when I hear the click of the stairway door close do I allow myself to breathe. 

Naruto sprints past me, leaping over the larger piles of bodies until he gets to the cell door. He enters, the door slamming shut behind him. Still, I cannot move. 

“You goin’ be okay Mr. Itachi?” Kisame asks. 

I close my eyes, force my lungs to expand and my nose to fill with air. Madara is gone. He is not here. I am not there. I do not need to relive those days—those weeks. I am not there. 

My eyes open. “I will be fine Kisame. Stay here, would you?” I walk forward, past the bodies, past the filth. Beyond that door was Sasuke. 

I simply pray that beneath all those cracks he is still there, intact enough, to still be the same Sasuke I crafted over these long years. I manipulated, I coerced, bribed--trained, Sasuke to be who he is. I am his creator and if need be, I will make him again. 

I have done it before after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the extra week wait but hopefully it was worth it. As always, this chapter was only proof-read by me so let me know if it has typo's. I would really appreciate knowing what you guys thought of the chapter so please, if you have the time, leave a comment. 
> 
> Thank you so, so much for seeing this through to the end with me.


	17. The Doll and a Crow lament, whilst the Fox mourns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the last chapter! As per usual this chapter has been unbeta'd so please excuse the errors I missed.  
> This is written differently than any of the others as the chapter is split into three perspectives. Naruto's first, then Itachi and finally Sasuke's.  
> There is a chapter eighteen I added today too that is more of an epilogue or a what if. Take it as you will :) 
> 
> Thank you for reading this with me. I hope you enjoyed my story. It was a blast to write and I learned so, so much. Thank you so much everyone for commenting, kudo'ing, and overall keeping me inspired to see it to the end.

* * *

**A Fox Accepts His Place**

* * *

 

I stood there, my heart constricting until ruptured at the sight before me. Sasuke sat in one corner sobbing, his clothes ripped and torn until they hung off of him in rags. Blood, his blood, was all over the floor; bleeding from scratches across his body but mostly from the shackles across his ankles and wrists.  

I did this to him. The thought kept repeating in my head, pounding again and again. I disrupted them. I prodded my big fat nose into their business when they were doing just fine. I brought Orochimaru on them because I couldn’t keep my stupid mouth shut. I did this to him.  

Vaguely I was aware of Itachi outside the cell. Vaguely aware of the silence and stillness of a room full of corpses. How could they do this to Sasuke? He was so pure, so free from everything. They broke him. I couldn’t tell who I was angrier at. Me for bringing this on him or those who hurt him. If Itachi decided to kill me after this I wasn’t going to try to stop him. I deserved it. 

I couldn’t bring myself to touch him. I would just taint him more, hurt him more. I couldn’t do that. So I just stood there like a useless lump of stone, staring at the remains of my heart. 

Eventually, Itachi walked into the room. I didn't see him enter but I heard him swear and run; he must have seen Sasuke. His perfect hair was mostly loose from his ponytail, fanning out around him like black feathered wings; an angel’s wings. His black clothes were red now. Blood splatters covered his face and hands. Yet somehow, he still looked beautiful. They both did. The sort of surreal beauty that is so perfect in its own element, you know better than to touch it. You just watch. 

So I did. 

I watched as Itachi gently touched Sasuke’s hand. Watched as the boy flinched and withdrew in himself. Watched and loathed myself. Never before I had hated myself more. I couldn’t do anything. I just stood there and silently watched.  

Itachi talked softly to Sasuke as he held him, gently kissing his head and running his hands through his hair. Sasuke had stopped sobbing but there was no light to his eyes. He looked broken. 

After fifteen minuets of watching I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned my head, away from them—from us, and I left the room. Kisame was in a corner, a large cigar in his mouth. He saw me and smiled. Pushing off the cement wall he walked over, taking the cigar out as he reached me.  

“Hey kid, Itachi find his brother?” I couldn’t speak, my tongue felt like a big fat sausage in my mouth. He laughed. “Yeah I’d feel like shit now too.” 

“H-How do they do it?” I asked, the words fumbling out of my dry mouth. 

“Do what?” He knew what I meant, he just wanted me to say it. Accept it.  

I swallowed, hoping in vain to get my tongue working right again. “Stay like…that.” 

The big black man took a deep drag of his cigar, his words mingled with the exhaled smoke. “When you met him, did you like Mr. Itachi?” 

My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What?” 

“You heard me. Did you like Mr. Itachi when you met him?” 

“Well, no. Not really.” 

Kisame’s lips pulled up in the corners, showing his elongated canines. “No one does. Mr. Itachi’s got that feel about him. He scares everyone.” He took the cigar out of his mouth, flicking it out of his fingers to fall onto the stained cement. He looked at out of the corner of his eye, that weird smile still in place. “Little Sasuke was the only one who didn’t. Still doesn’t. You don’t outgrow something like that.” 

Kisame stopped talking, his voice fading into silence as we both turned to watch Itachi walk up towards us, Sasuke cradled in his arms. He didn’t bother to look in my direction. He and Kisame exchanged a stare before they began down the hall we had come in from.  

I followed numbly. From the back of Itachi I could see Sasuke’s spiky hair sticking out. There was even blood in those beautiful black strands. How long would it take for him to heal? Would he ever? The first time he leaves the house he is kidnapped, caged and repeatedly raped. There was no hope now; he would never leave. 

He shouldn’t have ever left. 

I had sworn to see Itachi killed for what he had done to Sasuke; locking him up like that for so long. I had spent the last half-hour watching Itachi kill without so much as pause. Watched him slice men in half. Yet he is here, in front of me, tenderly holding his brother, wiping his tears. Whispering to him. His lips barely brushing his forehead in a kiss.  

He loved him. Loved him more than I would ever be able to.  I had hated Itachi but somehow, now, I understood him. I respected him. What would I have done in his place?  

_Nothing different._

\--------------------x----------------------

My mind is a numb throbbing mess when I finally get home. I am soaked from the rain. I cannot get the energy to move, so I stand there and wait, letting the rain drip off my hair in thick balls. Jiraiya doesn’t ask about the blood or the gun. He says nothing, simply throws a towel over my head and pulls me in. At that point I realize I am crying. He doesn’t say anything, just stands there holding my head against his chest.  

When I finally manage to stop he walks into the kitchen. My feet like lead lumps I drag myself to the bar in there. He has two steaming bowls of ramen made in minutes and we sit it in silence as he eats. I can’t bring myself to touch it. 

“You kill anyone?” 

I cannot answer, instead seeing all the men I had shot trying to save Sasuke. 

“Did they deserve it?” 

I saw Sasuke again, bleeding and torn. Broken. “Yeah, they deserved it.” 

Jiraiya sighed. “Do I need to make any calls?” 

“No. Itachi will take care of it.” 

Jiraiay shakes his head. “Well damn, okay. So, you want to talk about it?” 

Did I want to talk about it? What did ‘it’ all entail? The notes that I exchanged as I fell in love? The burning jealousy that warped that love into something possessive? Itachi and his devotion, his fanatic need to be in control, to ensure that everything ended as he thought it should? Sasuke, raped and broken. Did I need to talk about it? 

“No…I don’t need to talk.” 

Jiraiya grabs me by the shoulder and brings me into another one-sided hug. “Alright but if you need anything, let me know, okay kid?” 

I let him hug me, my eyes focused on the ramen bowls.  

What did I need? A way to forget maybe. A way to move on and forget I had ever met Uchiha Itachi. My eyes flutter shut, the corners prickling with tears. No, thats not it. I don’t wish that. If I hadn’t met him, I wouldn’t have met Sasuke. He changed the way I saw my life. The anger I felt for my father hiding me from the world, for growing up on the streets. The anger and bitterness from growing up like that; it was all gone. Sasuke took it away. He helped me see how fortunate I was to be free. And Itachi…Itachi…he showed me what my father must have felt, hiding me so he could save me. I couldn’t be Itachi. I couldn’t sacrifice what he did. I couldn’t do it. 

“Hey Jiraiya?”  I finally ask, my voice still cracking from its earlier abuse. 

He placed the cleaned bowl on top the drying rack, turning his head back to look at me. “Yeah kid?” 

“Can you do me a favor?” 

“Sure, what’s up?” 

“Erase their history. Get it cleaned out of the system. Can you make it so they don’t exist?” 

“Yeah, it’d be hard but I can call in a few favors. Are you talking about Itachi?” 

“And Sasuke. Can’t forget about him. There wouldn’t have been an Itachi without a Sasuke.” 

* * *

**A Crow Laments**

* * *

 

Kakashi is at the door when I arrive. He has the same jacket on, even his shoes. He gets up off the porch, stares at Sasuke for the duration it takes me to walk in. After that, he says nothing. Kakashi doesn’t question me, doesn’t fight or voice any protest when I walk in carrying Sasuke.  

We can’t return to our home. Not with Madara in the city. Pein and Orochimaru could still be out there. They both have been known to use body doubles, something I had forgotten until our drive here. No, Kakashi's was the safest place for us.

Kakashi himself, leaves us alone. Kisame and Naruto both vanish by the time I had reached the front door. It is well. I need neither of them anymore. Now, I needed only my brother. 

Sasuke says nothing as I gently lower his body into the bath. No sound leaves his bruised, bloody lips. The water turns red quickly, both from the blood covering him and what has stayed on my hands. I ignore it.  

Taking a washcloth I gently clean his arms, his legs, his stomach. I am reminded faintly of the night only weeks prior when he killed Sasori. I had done this then, hadn’t I? Wiped the blood away, hoping fervently that the memories would wash themselves clean as well.

This time I fear it will not be so easy. The door to Sasuke's cell had been unlocked when I arrived. There had been no need for the key Orochimaru had given me. It meant either the snake had deceived me on purpose or Madara had entered before me. What would have said to Sasuke is not hard to imagine. The damage his words would have caused however, is unknown. 

“Sasuke, can you hear me?” I whisper, my voice enriched with all the comfort and love I can force into it. Please, I tell myself, please. Answer me. 

He doesn’t. 

My hands run through his hair, untangle its knots with practiced effort. The blood is minimal in it but the evidence of what had been done to him is there, clumped and ugly. It takes me some time but the too, disappears into the drain. Once he is clean I carefully carry him back to the bed. Kakashi has cleaned the room for us, swept away any trace of himself. He must have anticipated my need to return here.  

Sasuke still says nothing as I cloth him in a t-shirt and sweat pants, too big they hang off his shoulders, his hips. He won’t look at me. That is the only consistence in the hours sense I have retrieved him. He looks dazed out ahead past me. As if broken. 

He is not. 

He can’t be. Not after this, after all we had paid to be free.  

“Hey,” Kakashi says from the doorway. His voice is soft and gentle.  

I don’t turn to look at him but I answer. “Kakashi.” 

“He will be alright Itachi. Give him time.” 

I close my eyes. Time. Hadn’t he already given so much of that? Hadn’t I? A decade. I spent a decade toiling for Madara and Pein. We had given enough already. 

“I appreciate your assistance Kakashi. Much of this would not have been accomplished without your help.” 

He takes my thanks as an invitation, walking into the room to slowly sit on the floor beside the bed. His weight next to me is a reassurance. “Your welcome. Glad I could try to kill Kisame. It was fun.” 

“Oh?” 

He chuckles. “Yeah hadn’t done anything like it before. He made it easy, toppling over the building like that after I fell on him. He was a terrible roommate though.” 

“I can imagine.” 

“Itachi.” 

“Yes, Kakashi?” 

“Do you remember when you scouted me?” 

I did. It was a memorable encounter. He had not taken me seriously, assuming a seventeen year old would not make a lawyer. Insult after insult had been thrown my way. I only managed to convince him with my degree and building ownership title. “You underestimated me,” I summarized.  

Kakashi looks at me, his eye patch and scarf removed, showing me his full expression of admiration. “Everyone did.” 

He does not elaborate. He doesn’t need to. I know who he is referring to, who everyone is. Pein. Madara. Orochimaru. Him. 

“Do you think I broke Sasuke?” I whisper, my voice so soft I can barely hear it. 

Kakashi sighs, running a calloused hand through his hair. “What do you want me to say Itachi?” 

“The truth.” 

No matter how hard, no matter how cruel; I needed to hear it. I am ready now.

He removes his hand, stares at it a moment before clenching it. “Yeah, yeah you broke him.” 

I close my eyes, remembering all that has transpired over the years. Every pointed comment, every absence I had little choice in. Every critic, every rebuke that I threw at him, forcing him away so I would not taint him. All those nights he practically crawled to me, asking if I was upset with him. All those nights of passionate, desperate love making.

“But you saved him.” The startled turn of my head towards him gives Kakashi a laugh. “He would have died wouldn’t he? If you had let him leave or left him. You gave him hope when he had none. He would have gone crazy in that house without you. So yeah, you broke him. But you saved him to.” 

“Thank you.” I whisper back. 

“Anytime Itachi. Anytime.” He stands then, hands slide into the pockets of his pants. He stares at Sasuke and I for a minuet longer before walking back to the bedroom door. He pauses there, hand against the door frame and says, “I am going to leave for a few days. Visit a friend downtown.” The door clicks shut behind him and I cannot help but wonder when will be the next time I see Kakashi.  

 

With Kakashi gone and Sasuke still asleep, I have plenty of time to think. It is, perhaps, not a good thing. I done much over the years and very little of it I regret. What regrets I do have anchor my mind to the possibilities that could have been.

What would have happened if I had let Naruto help me that night he broke in? How much would have changed if I had explained to him the situation with Pein? Explained how if Pein still breathed, so did my shackles of obligation to him. Explained of Madara and my obligation to be his sword. Would Sasuke have ever been kidnapped? Perhaps but perhaps not. We will never know.

I have left Kakashi a letter, explaining what I could of all that has transpired. It will be a record of sorts. Or perhaps confession is a better word for it. 

I wondered once, long ago, what the weaknesses of my comrades were. In the end, they all fell prey to them. Their weakness discovered then used against them, as mine had been that night before the massacre. Was he still be used against me? Did it count, when I gave in willing? Gave in to  Madara time and time again. Let him use me however he had felt like in attempts to get more for Sasuke and I. I killed with him our clansman's to free Sasuke from Orochimaru. I killed for him to secure this house. I let him treat me as a toy to secure a lessened work load. Each time Sasuke begged, I tried to reason with man who held me on chains. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t. I have felt the effects of my weakness thrown around, tugging me to where I had to be.  

Yet I have not broken. I am still well. I will not fall. I can’t, I promised Sasuke. 

So Sasuke, come back to me. I held my promise against all odds. Now, you need to hold yours. 

“You told me you would be here for me, Sasuke. Come home. I don't care in what shape you return, I can fix you so just,” My head falls to rest next to his, our eyelashes almost brushing. “Please, come back to me.” 

* * *

**A Doll Breaks**

* * *

I am awake, yet in the same moment, I am asleep. Nightmares hold my mind captive, stealing away all reason and will.  

In some, Orochimaru is there, hovering over me as he taunts and threatens. I beg and plead and he just laughs. He always laughs. He has his mouth against my ear, whispering again of Itachi. Of his failings, of how he has been abusing me. How he doesn’t deserve my devotion. That I am a doll for him to play with. He taunts me with this as he takes advantage of me. I cannot stop him or he will go and abuse Itachi. The thought is muddled and my memories are havoc in my mind.  

The men are there, faceless and formless—leaving only fear and determination that I will not break. I will protect my brother this time. For how long though? How long can I last? Pain and shame for not being strong enough to fight back strike at my mind, my resolve. How long can I withstand this?  My mind replays the memory that keep me suspended in unconsciousness. 

_The other me is there. For once, he is not smiling. He sits on his hunches, watching as the men violate me. I glare at him. What? I think? What do you want now?_

_“This is Itachi’s fault,” He says._

_In response, I scream and scream until all I can manage to cry out is a whimper. Only then do I manage words. “Big brother is not at fault. It’s mine. I thought about leaving, I was going to try when they got back. I—I—” my whimpers have broken into sobs._

_In a vague, undefinable way I realize the men have let me fall to the cement. They are all gone now and it is just me there. Me and the other side of me. The one that hates Itachi._

_Blood dripping from my mouth pools around me. I stare at it. I was used to blood. I have seen it before. Seen it when I killed Master Sasori. Seen it when Itachi stained the rugs red as he stood there insisting he was all right._

_“I deserved this,” I whisper to myself._

_“No you dumb ass. You don’t. It’s Itachi he wants, isn’t it? You are like this because of him. You are a ruined, shattered, useless doll.” The other Sasuke walks in front to stare down at me. “Wake up!” He screams at me. “Wake up and realize Itachi is the enemy. All of this is his fault.”_

_My eyes close on their own. I am tired. So, so tired. Every inch of my body aches worse than anything else I have felt before. “I am tired,” I tell the other me. The one I created out of lonelyeness. The one that speaks my fears. “Let me sleep.”_

_He laughs now and the sound of it is almost reassuring. “Go ahead, sleep. Close yours just like you do every time Itachi does something wrong. Can’t handle doubting him. That would be a sin against God wouldn’t it?”_

_Yes, I think to myself. It would be. Itachi was my God. The only one I knew. If I didn’t believe in him than I believed in nothing, not even myself. I couldn’t handle that._

 

_When I wake up someone is there. I do not know him but he seems to know me. He is smiling the same smile as Orochimaru had. My mouth hurts too much to speak so I simply roll over, looking hopeless up at him. Go ahead, I have no will to fight back._

_“You are Itachi’s brother, aren’t you?”_

_I nod my head._

_“I’m Madara. They have done a number to you huh?” He reaches down. I expect the usual grab and lift but instead he is gentle in helping lean me up against the back wall. “Well they are dead now so don’t worry about that. Itachi is on his way.”_

_He must see the change his news brings to my face because he laughs, the sort of laugh that leaves me feeling chilled. “Itachi has you wrapped around his fingers doesn’t he? Knew he could do it. I wonder though,”  He lets go of me and sits back onto the heels of his feet. “What do you remember?”_

_I manage to speak, the words broken and soft. “R-rememb-ber?”_

_“About your Dad. Your Mom.” He grins. “About Itachi killing them.”_

_My eyes widen and images of my childhood flash through my mind._

_“He enjoyed it you know. Couldn’t stand how your father put the clan first. He sliced him first, right across the back…”_

_Madara’s voice is a whisper in my ear as my mind collapses on itself. I am in our childhood home. Father is there, conversing with Itachi about something and I am ignored. Again. Itachi tries to speak with me and Father silences him, pushes him away. I am left alone._

_Have I always been alone then? Even from the beginning?_

_“…your cousins were next. Didn’t even give them a chance to fight back. Stabbed straight through the chest.”_

_I can see it. See the blood and the death, see Itachi kill everyone. I am helpless as my buried memories resurface._

_“Your brother lied to you little Uchiha. Your parents murder has been with you the whole time. You made love to the man who killed them. You beg at the murderers feet.” He smiles again, cruel and long. “He has kept you around all this time because he wants you for himself. You won’t ever leave that cage. When he gets you, you will be locked inside. Just like you have been locked here.” He leans in toward me until I feel his breath against my lips. “If I were you, I’d run. I’d take revenge for your parents. Run. Run and be free or remain a doll forever.”_

_I am crying now, begging him to stop talking. I couldn’t see anything but my buried memories come rushing back. Itachi running through the room, sword slick with blood. He slices through Mother first then Father. He walks to me and speaks something, holds me in his arms as he stands there, spotted in blood. He killed them, Itachi killed our family. It has never been anyone else. From the start it has been him._

_Itachi has lied to all these years. Was I really just a doll to him then? Nothing more?_

_“Go to sleep Sasuke. You don’t need to deal with this. I will,” the other me says, smiling and laughing and for once, I do not fight him._

_Madara had been right._

  

Suddenly, Itachi is there. His face is above mine, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.  

“Sasuke?” he asks gently. 

I reach up, feel his lips, his cheeks. Itachi. 

My vision blurs and for a moment I can’t tell which Itachi I see. The brother who cared for me or the brother, splattered in blood, that killed father and mother. They blur and my panic sets in. The fear I had felt that night a decade past mingles with the lingering fear from mere hours ago. They blur until I am screaming and pushing myself as far from him as I can.  

“You killed them! You killed our parents!” I scream out. 

Itachi does not react. His face is still as he steps cautiously to me. “Sasuke, you need to calm down.” 

I raise my hands to my ears, covering them completely. “I don’t understand big brother! Everything hurts.” My voice breaks into a whimper. “Why did you kill them?” 

“Sasuke, you aren’t thinking straight.” 

The other Sasuke is there and suddenly, I am seeing everything from inside him. I have no control. 

“Yes, Itachi, I am. I thinking on my own for once and I know you don’t love me. You are just a coward.” 

Itachi pales and inside I want to scream.  

“You locked me up. You keep away from life because you are afraid. Afraid that if I see what is out there, I won’t love you anymore.” 

No. No. No. I claw at my mind but I cannot regain control of it. You are hurting him! Stop hurting my big brother, I demand. The other me does not listen. He never has. 

Itachi might as well be a statue. He is so still. “Sasuke,” he says slowly. “Sasuke, I need you to listen.” 

“That is all I have done! Listen!” My body leaps off the bed, landing atop Itachi. My hands close around Itachi’s neck. Tighter, tighter. “Look where it got me? Treated like a whore, beat and abused! You did this to me!” 

He reaches up and pressing into my wrists. Whatever he does to them has my wrists falling limp, allowing him to pull away. “Sasuke, you are confused.” 

My body does not seem phased. It stands and rushes him again, snarling. We toss and turn about the room, hitting a bookshelf. Objects rain down atop our bodies. Books, dog toys, a gun. A knife. My eyes focuses in on the knife. Fear of what the other me might do has me frantically beating against the confines of my mind.  

“You did this to me.” My body picks up the knife. “You killed our parents and locked me up. You erased my memories of them, used me, created me to love you!” My body sneers down at Itachi. Itachi has not moved from where he had fallen against the back wall. “I am your doll, your puppet, because you couldn’t stand the idea of me leaving. Admit it Itachi! Admit you used me!” 

Itachi is so still. So very, very still. Inside my mind I am weeping. I cannot stop the other me and I know it because deep down, I needed to hear this. I wanted to hear him answer. 

Itachi's eyes flutter shut and he exhales, slow and even. Then they open again and my world breaks completely. “I tried to protect you by locking you away. I thought you would be safe but you weren’t. I hurt you. Time and time again and in the end, I broke you myself. I failed you Sasuke. I will try harder so please, let us go home.” 

Home. 

Back in the cage where the door locks everyday. Where I am confided and kept like an exotic doll.  

Panic has my hands moving and suddenly, the other me is gone. Not so much of a whisper or a cackle. It is just me in my head again now. I am shaking as I look down at my hands.  

Blood. It covers the knife, covers my hand. So much blood. Its pouring out of brothers stomach. It spills past the knife to drip down off my hands. Everything is so red. My hands shake. The trembling loosens my grip on the knife and I feel my legs buckle beneath me. I have to leave. I have to go. But there is so much blood. I need to leave before Itachi locks the door, before I can’t leave ever again. Why am I leaving? Why is he bleeding? How do I make it stop? I look up and my brother is still there. 

Itachi has blood dripping out of his mouth. It falls down atop his hands. Drip. Drip. His lips, the lips that never moved to a smile. Those beautiful, caring lips turn up and Itachi is smiling. “I love you Sasuke.” 

I hadn’t meant to do it. I didn’t mean it. It had just happened.  

Franticly I drop the knife. Stare at it in horror. What have I done? “I am sorry, I am so so sorry.” I am still shaking. I need to leave but Itachi is bleeding. He isn’t moving, just bleeding. “I am so sorry Big Brohter. I hadn’t meant to do it, I-I”  

I need hurry and leave. Panic clouds my mind and suddenly I am there, at the doorway. Night air cools my body but does not stop it. I run. I run down the street, down the alleys of the city. I run, blinded by the fluorescent street lights on either side. They are so bright. People, so many people, are all around me. Pointing and whispering. My head turns from side to side, overwhelmed. Where am I? Where do I go? I don’t understand. 

“Sasuke.” 

Ahead of me someone is there, saying my name. My feet carry me, step, by step, closer to him.  

The doll has been broken and the bird let free. 

I cannot go back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is done. I finished it. Yay! Though I am sure most of you aren't happy about the ending ha ha... I'd say I am sorry but I always imagined Imperfection to end this way so it'd be a false apology if I tried. In fact, the ending was the second scene I wrote for this fanfiction, with the initial chapter being the first. Some aspects changed along the way but most of it needed to stay the same. Like in the actual Naruto series, Naruto himself was a catalyst for Sasuke, forcing his life to start when he had tried to keep it still. 
> 
> One of the largest take-aways I got from Canon was that Sasuke was a reflection of what Itachi wanted him to be. Itachi always had a large impact on his life but after the massacre he shaped Sasuke into what he needed him to be. Not for Sasuke’s benefit but his own. When he noticed how complacent with life Sasuke had gotten during the infamous Motel scene, Itachi reminded Sasuke of what he was supposed to do. He adjusted his grip on Sasuke’s life until it was back on track where he thought it should be; getting stronger in order to stay alive and kill him. Likewise, Itachi was manipulated and brain-washed from the moment he graduated and entered the ninja world. 
> 
> To me, I have always seen Itachi as selfish, not selfless. He didn't ask Sasuke what he wanted, not once. At least, that is my interpretation of it all.
> 
> I feel very passionate about Itachi’s manipulation of Sasuke’s life and wanted to showcase that with this fic. I cannot imagine their pairing without some serious unhealthy, traumatic events occurring to shape their love. To me, ItachixSasuke is a very toxic pairing that has to be filled with so much twisted love and warped sense of right and wrong to truly be Uchihacest. There is nothing healthy or normal about either of them and that is part of why I love them so much ha ha. 
> 
> So in the end, anything I write with the two of them in it, neither of them will have all gears running smoothly in the head. Unless its pure fluff. I may have a one or two of those floating around my computer.
> 
> Thank you again guys for everything. I would love to hear you thoughts in the comments.


	18. Pick your Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Epilogue I added is also split into two different endings. The first is written from Naruto’s POV and the other Kakashi’s. Once a upon a time I had ambitions to write more for this fanfic and that is Naruto’s ending. I no longer have those ambitions. I am unfortunately too tired these days to commit to another full length fanfiction. I felt the readers deserved to know what could have been though so I added it as well.
> 
> The second ending, Kakashi’s, was my original ending I had planned for the story, back before I saw all of my plot-holes and realized I needed to change the ending to make it fit better. Still though, I loved this ending the most so I wanted to post it.
> 
> Let me know which you guys like better in the comments!

* * *

 

**ENDING OPTION ONE:**

**A FOX BEGINS A TALE**

* * *

 

It has been nearly three months sense I took a gun and followed Itachi to hell. Sakura eventually stopped asking me about my mysterious soul-mate. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought of Sasuke. If anything it was opposite. I thought about him all the time. Every day I would see something that reminded me of him and I would stop and wonder how they were doing. How well Sasuke had healed, if he had healed at all. 

True to his word Jiraiya erased all records of their existence. It hadn’t been hard he said. Itachi ensured he never showed up on TV or in the newspaper. It almost distrubed old man Jiraiya when he realized how throughly Itachi had lived under the radar. 

“Naruto!” I look up at Sakura. She has her arms folded, angry. She is angry again. “Naruto are you listening to me?” 

Beside her Shikamaru yawns. “Give him a break Sakura. He has been busy.” He finishes his yawn to smile good naturedly at me. “Running your dads business now I hear.” 

Sheepishly rubbing at my head I chuckle. “Yeah, its hard but I’m glad I decided to do it. How about you? I hear ANBU is yours now.” 

Shikamaru frowns. “Yeah, well both Mr. Hatake and Mr. Uchiha disappeared. After a month I found a letter that said I am in charge now.” He makes an annoyed sound. “Bothersome, thats what it is.” 

Both of us jerk as our waters spill from Sakura’s sudden slam of hands atop the table. She stands frantically grabbing at her purse. “I totally spaced it! Oh no,” she groans. “Tsunade is going to kill me. I am supposed to be starting surgery interring soon and I am late!” She pushes her chair back and then is off, waving at us both as she runs across the street. 

“Troublesome,” Shikamaru mutters, rubbing at his temples. He hated meeting with Sakura but it was the only time these days I had to meet with either. Running my father’s business took most of my time. 

There is a sound of a chair being dragged. Which is unusual because Sakura just left so  I turn then stop, my mouth falling open. 

“Oh good, she finally left. Didn’t think she would ever stop talking.” 

Shikamaru shares my expression, his lips falling open in shock. “Mr. Hatake?”  

Indeed. There, in the same tan slakes and green button-up he had been that fateful night, is Kakashi, Itachi’s friend. 

“You remember those files I had you steal for me Shika?” 

Shikamaru can only numbly nod. 

“I need them back. Itachi had information no else does.” 

I stand up this time, confused and frustrated at being left out of the loop. “Itachi’s files on who? Kakashi, what is going on?”  

He looks up at me, sending my gut into knots. “Itachi is dead. Madara has Sasuke. We need to save him before he kills himself.” 

“W-what?” my mind freezes at hearing of Itachi’s death. There isn’t—no, who? Wait, Sasuke was going to kill himself? “What are you taking about? We saved him!” 

Kakashi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah well, it didn’t stick. Sasuke killed Itachi then left. From everything I can gather Madara has him now. He will use him up until there isn’t anything left of the Sasuke we knew.” 

Sasuke was free, out in the world. I felt like throwing up. “Where do we start?” 

Kakashi smiled.  

* * *

 

**ENDING OPTION TWO:**

**A DOG IS PLEASED**

* * *

Four months. Four months ago I walked into their life. I didn’t understand it then, but the events would play out and I would be here, watching Sasuke sleep.

I found him a month ago, wandering a few streets down from my house, spotted in blood. After I had managed to calm him down I brought him back to my house.

My bedroom was a disaster, as if a fight had been fought in here. Sure enough, a small pile of blood was near the open window, a knife next to it. Sasuke fainted then and there. When he finally woke I got the gist of what happened out of him. He had stabbed Itachi then ran. As for his brother, well, he wasn’t there when I came back in. Who knew where he had gone? 

Sasuke is convinced he killed him. I don’t buy it. I am as far from perfect as a man can get, but I can recognize a master when I see one. I’ve played the fiddle to his tune, I have done everything he asked of me and yet, I cannot accept it. I cannot accept Itachi is dead. 

So for now I will watch over Sasuke and keep him alive, if not sane. The boy barely speaks a word and does nothing. Sasuke does little else in the room other than sit there, lifeless, repeating the same thing: I am sorry big brother. Sometimes, only sometimes, I find him curled in a ball crying. He eats his food but only if I sit there and make him, guilt tripping him through his dead brother.  

I feel guilty every time but if I don’t he won’t eat. Itachi wouldn’t want him to die so I figure its okay. Itachi is alive, I am sure of it. Every time I open the door to his room I hold my breath, wondering if this time, he will be gone—whisked away by Itachi. 

The tray of food in one hand I turn the knob with the other, entering his room. Wind from the open window blows into the room. Its caress lifts the currents, ruffles the pictures lining the wall. The blanket is empty. I walk numbly forward, my mind seized into a state of shock. A small note card flutters atop the desk. My eyes draw toward it. I feel the tears first then the bubbling laughter. I hold neither back.  

Written in his neat, perfect, script are two words. 

_Thank you._

I sit there laughing for sometime. When it finally passes I am content. Everything is as it should be. I have said it before haven’t I? They can only live when in the presence of each other. 

Itachi has Sasuke now; a Crow and his Doll. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? Which did you like better? Hmm? Hmm? :D
> 
> I know there are a number of things in the story that could have confused readers so, if you'd like clarification on anything, please, go ahead and ask. Consider it a Q&A! :D 
> 
> I don't usually respond to comments 'cause I feel like I am cheating, increasing the number of comments on my story with my own, but this time, I promise I will! And if a question really inspires me or if it fits a scene I have already written but couldn't put into the story, I will post the answer as a one-shot.


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